Harry Potter and the Muggleborn Witch
by cwgranger
Summary: Starts during Chapter 9 of POA. HHr. After falling off his broom, Harry's feeling towards Hermione have changed. I know it sounds like every other HHr story, but please read and review.
1. Grim Confusion

Disclaimer: The whole Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, lucky duck.

A/N: The first paragraph of the dementor definition is taken directly from Chapter 10 of POA when Remus is talking to Harry.

Harry gradually became aware of a dull, throbbing pain behind his eyes. The darkness surrounding him began to be pierced by voices talking and the steady drumming of rain against the glass. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see the Gryffindor Quidditch Team and his two best friends crowding around him.

Hermione was the first to notice that he was awake. "Harry! You're okay!" She tried to throw her arms around his neck in an awkward embrace. She straightened up as more shouts of "Harry!" came, trying to conceal the blush on her cheeks.

"Where exactly am I?" Harry asked. He noticed that his robes were wet and muddy like everyone else's. "Never mind, I'm in the Hospital Wing, aren't I?"

"Yeah, mate. Don't you remember the Quidditch match?" Ron asked from his position on Harry's right.

Suddenly, the memories came rushing back. "I remember dementors, and screaming, and then everything went black. What happened?"

"Dementors swarmed the pitch. You must have passed out, because you fell. Luckily, Dumbledore caught you before you could hit the ground," Hermione explained, trying to keep her tone calm.

"Good thing, too," started Fred.

"Yeah, that fall must have been at least a hundred feet," George continued.

"Don't think you'd look too good after that," they finished together. The whole team laughed at that, except Wood who looked very grim.

Harry immediately realized why, "We lost the game, didn't we?"

The mood took a downward turn. Alicia spoke the unfortunate truth, "Cedric didn't see you fall, and he caught the snitch as you got to the ground. He wanted to call it a draw, but…"

"I told him that he won, fair and square," Wood interrupted. Wood never took losing very well, but Harry knew it wouldn't be long until he was drilling them for their next great victory.

Harry did feel guilty though. "I'm sorry. This…"

Wood put his hand up to get him to stop. "Harry, none of us blame you. It's not your fault that the dementors were there."

Madam Pomfrey chose this moment to politely kick out the muddy Quidditch players. "Mr. Potter, you may go as well."

Harry sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, knocking a bundle of wood and twigs onto the floor. "What is…?" Harry spotted a piece marked "Nimbus 2000" in gold lettering. "Is that…?" He looked to Ron and Hermione for confirmation.

"There was nothing we could do. Your broom flew into the Whomping Willow. We got as many of the pieces as we could," Hermione said with tears in her eyes.

Harry couldn't say anything. He'd had the broom for so long, and he had never lost on it. Until then, that is. Seeing his sadness, Hermione took his hand, and Ron handed him the newly wrapped bundle. "Come on, Harry. Let's go change before dinner." Hermione led him out of the wing to Gryffindor Tower.

Still wet, Harry collapsed onto the sofa in front of the fireplace, dragging Hermione down with him. He absentmindedly fingered some stray twigs poking out of the bundle in his lap. Ron and Hermione stayed quiet, and Harry focused on the soothing circles Hermione was rubbing into his hand. Gratefully, he absorbed the warmth and comfort she was communicating instead of thinking about the events of the morning. They sat like this for a while until the grumbling of Ron's stomach ruined the silence.

"Harry, it's time for dinner. Would you like to come?" Hermione's voice was gentle.

Harry met her eyes, which seemed to be searching his own. He was surprised to find that they were a warm and caring chocolate brown. It stunned him for a moment, and her face returned with a look of puzzlement. "Sure. I'll go change into something dry. I'll be right back." He emptied what was left of his Nimbus into the fireplace and headed up the boys' staircase. Neither he nor Ron noticed Hermione stealthily save a piece from the funeral pyre.

Up in the dormitory, Harry redressed quickly and took a few minutes to mull things over. The dementors were foremost in his mind. "I can't let this happen again. I have to find a way to keep the dementors away," he muttered angrily to himself. Those thoughts gave way to ones about getting a new broom, and eventually to Hermione. Harry thought about the revelation he had about her earlier. It's not that he hadn't realized she was a girl; it's just that he was now more aware of it.

Harry tried to push those thoughts from his mind as he walked back down to the Common Room. He found Ron there alone. "Where's Hermione?"

"She went to put her cloak up," Ron gestured towards the staircase Hermione was descending.

"Are you two ready?" Harry and Ron nodded. "Let's go then," Hermione said as she let Ron lead them out of the portrait hole.

Harry motioned for Hermione to go next as he took one last look at the fireplace. He could barely make out a few remaining twigs burning to crisps. Hermione took his hand, and he followed her into the corridor. "I suppose I should start looking for another broom. Those old Cleansweeps and Comet Two-Sixties the school has won't work," Harry mentioned as they approached the Great Hall.

"Yeah. You'll never be able to get the snitch on one of those old brooms," Ron agreed. "I have a few broom catalogues in my trunk that you can borrow."

"Thanks. I'm going to need a new one before next year. Wood will be badgering me about it until I do."

They were among the last people to sit down to dinner. Harry and Hermione sat across from Ron who immediately became preoccupied with his food. Harry picked halfheartedly at what Hermione put on his plate until she set her fork down and half turned towards him. "Harry, something else is bothering you," Hermione stated with concern.

Harry glanced around even though he knew that with the noise no one would be able to eavesdrop. "I would tell you that I'm fine," he started.

"But you know that I would know you're lying, so it's pointless," Hermione quickly pointed out. "Please just talk to me." Her eyes were again filled with worry.

"Okay. Well, I know you think that Grim," Hermione snorted, "Wait, let me finished." She composed the annoyed look on her face for the concerned one before. He restarted, "I thought the Grim was all superstitious nonsense, but I saw it again. It was in the stands during the game."

"Are you sure? I mean, it was really rainy and foggy…"

"Hermione, I am absolutely positive. I saw it when lightening struck the pitch. I'm not particularly superstitious but seeing it twice is too much of a coincidence for me. Then, when you add on the dementors and Sirius Black."

Hermione muffled him by throwing her arms around him in an embrace. This caught Ron's and half the Great Hall's attention. "Oi! Harry and Hermione?" Luckily, his mouth was empty otherwise the now blushing Harry and Hermione would be covered in food. Gossip was rapidly spreading among the House tables about the "new couple".

"We were just talking about the Quidditch match," Hermione responded, her face still faintly pink.

"That's not what it looked like. People are already talking." Ron gestured to the mass of students whispering and pointing in their direction.

"Well, let them," Hermione announced with a tone of finality. Ron focused on his plate again, and Harry was silently contemplating the hug Hermione had just given him. It was warm and caring like the ones before, but there was something different this time. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but he had felt more than friendship in that hug. Harry wondered if Hermione had felt it too.

Because he was so caught up in his thoughts, Harry almost missed the end of dinner. Hermione brought him back by tugging on his arm. He turned and got up with her, but she seemed to be avoiding looking him in the face. The trip back to Gryffindor Tower was just as quiet and awkward.

They found empty seats close to the fireplace. Ron, oblivious to the silence of his friends, broke the tension. "I'll go get those catalogues, and I'll help you find a new broom." He ambled up the stairs, obviously tired from the massive quantity of food he'd just inhaled. Harry and Hermione were left there, politely looking the other way.

Hermione, the braver of the two, chanced to speak first. "Harry? What else is on your mind?"

He said the first thing that came to his mind, "The dementors. I want to know why I act like that around them." They both knew he was lying, but Hermione let it go.

"I don't know. We haven't covered them yet in class. Hold on." Hermione started rummaging in her ever-present bookbag. Out came a heavily belted copy of The Monster Book of Monsters of which she promptly stroked the spin, much to Harry's astonishment. The bookworm in her took over as she checked the index and found whatever she was looking for. "Oh, here it is!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Here what is, Hermione?" Ron had just come down the stairs with a bunch of catalogues under his arm.

"I was looking to see if there was a section on dementors, and here it is." She began to read:

"**Dementors**

"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places. They glory in decay. They drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself, soul-less and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experience of your life.

"They guard the prison of Azkaban. Many inmates go crazy before long. Their last weapon is the Dementor's Kiss, which is done to suck a person's soul through their mouths. It is performed only on the evilest of criminals."

The author's word seemed to hang in the air around them. They took a while to sink in due to the horror of such a creature. "Normally, I would say that this book is biased, but given the circumstances…" Hermione purposely trailed off.

"Is that the end?" Does it say how to get rid of them?" Harry asked after a few moments of quiet.

Hermione quickly rescanned the section to see if she'd missed something. "It doesn't say anything else. There has to be something, a spell or charm that can ward against dementors. Let me check our Defense textbook."

Ron and Harry watched as Hermione pulled yet another book out of her bulging bookbag. While she searched that book, Harry noticed that Hermione looked very tired. There were bags forming under her eyes, and she looked paler than usual. He was thinking about talking to her about it when she grinned triumphantly up at him. "I found something. It's only briefly mentioned, but it's called the Patronus charm. The book doesn't say how it works though." Frowning at the book, Hermione closed it with a loud thud.

"I've never heard of it before. Have either of you?" Harry looked at his two best friends. Hermione shook her head, but Ron nodded.

"My parents have mentioned it before. Apparently, not many wizards can do it; it's supposed to be really difficult," Ron answered at Harry and Hermione's questioning looks.

"Do you guys remember that spell Professor Lupin did on the train? That silvery stuff he shot at the dementors?" Harry asked after thinking back to the beginning of term. "Do you think that's it?"

They looked to Ron again. "I think so, except I think it's supposed to have a distinct form. Lupin's didn't; it was more like fog." For once, Hermione was not their source of intelligence, and Harry couldn't tell if it bothered her or not.

Harry looked to Hermione to see if she had anything to add. "Maybe you should ask him anyway, Harry. If he can't teach you, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall will be able to."

"It's worth a try. I'll talk to him in the morning before classes on Monday," Harry offered.

Again, they all stared absently into the fire. Harry's mind was focused on the dementors banishing all earlier thoughts of Hermione. He would have liked to get his Invisibility Cloak and sneak down to Lupin's office, but Lupin didn't know about the cloak. A loud yawn from Ron brought the three teenagers back to reality.

"It's late. We should all probably go to sleep Good night," Hermione said before moving towards the girls' staircase.

"'Night, Hermione," Ron replied as he ran up the opposite staircase.

Harry lagged behind. "Hermione?"

She turned back towards him looking wearier than earlier. "Yes, Harry?"

"Are you okay? You look really tired," Harry spoke with his voice full of concern.

She gave a tiny sigh. "Yeah, I'm fine. I've just been working really hard lately."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be okay, Harry."

"Just don't work yourself too hard, okay?"

"I won't. Good night, Harry." Hermione flashed him a tired little smile that cause Harry's heart to flutter.

"Good night, Hermione," he said softly as she started up the stairs. He wasn't sure if she had heard it, but she walked up to her room with a grin adorning her face. Harry finally fell asleep with thoughts of Hermione swirling around his head.

A/N: I have taken the rest of the chapters off, so you guys don't get confused with the new discrepancies. I may not completely rewrite a lot of the later chapters, but they will definitely be happening at a different point. I'm basically letting my prose muse guide me right now. Sorry that this has taken so long!


	2. Coming Clean Isn't Easy To Do

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the affiliated stuff. That's JK Rowling's property.

A/N: This is a nice Harry and Hermione interaction chapter not in the story previously. Enjoy!

Harry awoke the next morning with a bright orange cat nuzzling his hand impatiently. "Crookshanks? How did you get in here?" he mumbled sleepily as he began scratching the half-Kneazle's head. Absently, Harry began drifting off to sleep again and was rewarded by Crookshanks biting his hand. He jolted back to life. "Point taken. Why do you want me up so badly?" he asked while cradling his lightly bleeding hand.

It was still pretty early in the morning, only about seven, but Harry decided to get up anyway. Crookshanks sat purring contentedly as Harry got dressed and continued as he sat back down and resumed rubbing Crookshanks's head. "Good morning. You haven't eaten Scabbers yet, have you?" Harry glanced at the closed coverings on Ron's bed. Crookshanks was gazing mischievously at the hangings as well. "Let's go downstairs. Ron will hate to find you in here when he wakes up."

Gathering the fat cat in his arms, Harry started down the stairs, careful to firmly shut the dormitory door behind them. Down in the Common Room, Harry found Hermione sitting in a chair surrounded by open books. He settled in a plushy, scarlet chair next to her with Crookshanks on his lap. "Good morning, Hermione."

Startled, she looked up from the book lying on her lap. "Oh, good morning, Harry. Why are you up so early?" They were alone in the spacious Common Room.

"Your alarm clock came and woke me up," Harry said, pointing to the purring cat.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Bad Crookshanks." The cat just looked at her with his equivalent of a smirk. "I had wondered where he disappeared to."

"It's okay. So how long have you been up?" Harry asked, gesturing to the sea of books surrounding Hermione.

"Just an hour or so. I woke up and remembered I had checked a few books out of the library on dementors. I never got a chance to read them."

"Hermione, I really appreciate you helping me, but you're overworking yourself. You have too much homework as it is." Harry was really touched at how much she was trying to help him, but he was worried about her. It wasn't just that she looked tired; she also looked thinner and unhealthier. Harry was concerned and wondered how long this had been happening and how he had not noticed before.

She smiled that tired smile and put her hand over his on the arm of the chair. "You know I'll do anything to help you. I'm fine," Hermione assured him with all the sincerity she could muster. Harry couldn't help but stare into Hermione's big brown eyes. He felt himself leaning forward slightly until Crookshanks, feeling ignored since Harry had stopped petting him, bit Harry's hand again and jumped off his lap. Crookshanks sauntered off in the direction of the boys' dormitories.

The mood had been killed again, and Hermione turned back to the book in front of her. "I've learned some interesting things about dementors, but there isn't much information available about them."

"Why's that?" Harry asked, only slightly recovered from earlier.

"Not much is known about them. Basically all that we read last night is all that anybody knows. I find that rather odd," she remarked while studying the book.

"Why would the Ministry trust a creature they know nothing about? Especially with guarding Azkaban?" Harry wondered aloud.

Hermione nodded her agreement. "It doesn't make much sense. Dementors sound like dark creatures."

"Yeah. I bet they used to be in league with Voldemort. Maybe they helped Sirius Black escape."

"It's possible. A breakout has never occurred, so it would make sense that he had inside help. I wish I could study them more," Hermione added wistfully.

Harry smiled as he watched her bit her lip with this look of deep contemplation on her face. He and Ron knew that look well and usually left Hermione to her thoughts. "You'll get to one day," Harry reassured her as she broke her reverie. "I don't think Dumbledore can let us kidnap one for your experiments. Though I'm sure he'd love to do it himself."

"Yeah, but I'm sure the Department of Mysteries has been studying them. That's their job," Hermione mused.

"Is the Department of Mysteries part of the Ministry? I've never heard of it."

"Yes. Although we know of it, anyone that works outside of the department isn't supposed to know what goes in it. I've only heard it mentioned in passing, but my guess is that they work on researching, studying, and developing things in magic," Hermione explained as though she had thought about it a lot.

"Sounds like the perfect place for you to work after Hogwarts, Hermione," Harry teased.

"I've considered it, but I don't know if I could."

"Why not? I think you would be perfect for that job"

"Well," she began to blush, "Unspeakables, people who work for the department, can't talk about their work. And…"

"And what?" Harry asked, trying to find out why she was blushing.

"Every time I would make a discovery, I would be dying to tell you about it," she finished while looking down at the book on her lap.

The feeling of being pleased welled up in Harry's chest, though he wasn't quite sure why. "Why just me? Ron listens to you too," Harry asked without much grace.

"Ron doesn't listen though. He may sit there pretending he is, but his mind is usually on Quidditch or food. You always take the time to listen to me, and you try to understand. I'd much rather tell you stuff than Ron," Hermione answered with a lot of feeling. She seemed to realize what she said though and blushed while turning her gaze back to the book.

Harry knew the truth of her words. Ron was usually too caught up on his own life to pay much attention to Hermione. Constantly working to please and help others, Hermione needed someone to discuss her work with. She liked the insights and the additional information other people, especially Harry, could give. Harry realized this and promised himself that he would always try to listen to her. Suddenly, he felt better knowing that he understood Hermione just a little more.

After a few moments of listening to the fire crackle, Hermione gave up pretending to concentrate on the text by shutting the book. "These books aren't giving me any new information. I'm going to return them to the library."

"Let me help with those." Harry helped her collect the dozen or so books scattered around the chair she had just been occupying.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said gratefully once both their arms were loaded with books and they were on their way to the library.

Harry looked down at the vast number of books weighing heavily in his arms. "I thought you said there wasn't a lot of information on dementors."

"There isn't. I checked out any books that mentioned dementors. Most just named them, and the others had really small sections on them that all said the same thing. This is only half of the books I originally looked at."

Harry just laughed and shook his head. "What?" Hermione choked out once his laughter had become contagious.

Smiling at her once his chuckles had subsided, he replied, "You really are amazing, Hermione. Did you know that?"

Her face turned red, but her smile was huge. "Thanks, but I don't know why a trip to library makes you feel that way."

"You are always helping people, even if they don't know. You have so much to do every day, but you always take the time out to help someone. How do you do it?" Harry thought about all the times Hermione had helped him with his adventures. The times she helped Ron and him with their homework, and when she assisted Neville during practically all of his classes.

She took a second to think about her answer and stopped walking. "I don't know. I like to help people, and I have just as much extra time as I've ever had."

That statement confused Harry. "How? You are taking twice as many classes as any of us."

Hermione seemed to have regained her senses and resumed walking. "Better time management," she said stiffly, and it was clearly the only answer she was willing to give. Harry knew she was lying but didn't press the issue. They walked in silence the rest of the way to the library. Madam Pince looked relieved to get her precious books back.

On the way out, Harry glanced at his watch, "Breakfast is about to start. I imagine Ron and everyone else will be getting up soon."

"I suppose so. I like how quiet it is in there when no one's up. It's peaceful, and I can get work done."

"Yeah, it's hard to do anything in the Common Room with everyone in there," Harry commented while wondering about her previous statement. He never knew she stayed up so late or got up so early. No wonder she looked so tired. "Hermione, are you sure you're okay?"

Sighing, she answered this question wearily, "Yes, Harry. I appreciate your concern, but I'll be okay. I just haven't been sleeping well."

"Are you sure that you aren't taking too many classes? I only ever see you working anymore," Harry pointed out, hoping that Hermione would come to reason.

"Harry, I'm fine! I am getting all of the work done, and I'll be okay!" she half-yelled in frustration. By this time, they had stopped walking and were turned towards each other. Almost as soon as her anger had come, it disappeared. "Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry!" Hermione choked out as tears started flowing down her cheeks. She started sobbing, and instinctually, Harry wrapped his arms around her shaking frame.

Looking around them, he noticed an unused classroom. "Come on," he said as he pulled he into the room. He locked the door with a flick of his wand, and Hermione cried fervently into his shoulder. Not sure how to comfort her, he rubbed her arms and hair. There conveniently was a couch that he again directed her to. They were settling in as her tears started to run out. Gradually, silence crept in around them until Hermione was barely hiccupping. All the while, Harry tried to put as much warmth in his embrace as he could, hoping it would help.

"Oh, I'm sorry Harry," Hermione said once she was calm again.

"Talk to me, Hermione. What's wrong?"

She took a deep breath and began, "I'm overwhelmed by everything. You're right. I'm taking too many classes, and I have too much homework. Then I'm constantly worrying about you. McGonagall worked so hard for me, so I can't tell her it's too much for me to handle…"

Harry interrupted her jumble of thoughts at that. "What did McGonagall do for you?"

Hermione sat up and looked in his eyes. "Can I tell you a secret? No one else can know."

"I won't tell anyone, not even Ron," Harry promised.

"Okay, well you know how I have a couple classes at the exact same?"

"Yeah. You said it was a mistake when Ron pointed that out at the beginning of the year," Harry remembered.

"I had to lie. You see, to get to all of my classes, I needed this," and she extracted a long gold chain with an hourglass at the end from under her jumper. "It's called a Time Turner. You use it to go back in time."

She placed the hourglass part in his hand, and he examined closely. "Is that why you would pop up out of nowhere?"

"Yes. McGonagall had to write a lot of letters to the Ministry to get me one of these."

"I've never heard of them. If I had…" Harry thought wistfully of the day his parents died.

Hermione seemed to follow his line of thinking. "I'm sorry, Harry. These are closely regulated by the Ministry because time travel can be very dangerous. People sometimes end up killing themselves or drastically changing the future."

"I guess there would have to be a good reason. Otherwise, we would already be rid of Voldemort." He thought for a second. "Why haven't you been sleeping then? You could just go back in time and get more."

She shook her head. "No. The number one rule is that you can't be seen, least of all by your other self."

"Why don't you drop some classes then? I'm sure there's a few you don't like," Harry offered up as a solution.

"I've thought about dropping Divination, but that would still leave me a load of classes."

"At least quit Divination then. Trelawney gives a lot of homework."

"I think I will. I don't like the old bat or her subject anyway." The laughter dispelled much of the earlier mood.

"Just let me know if I can help you with any of your work. I'll try to get Ron to do his own homework too," Harry suggested very willingly.

"Harry, you don't have to do that," Hermione began to protest.

"Hermione, I want to. You've done so much for Ron and me, especially me. Without you, I wouldn't have made it to the stone in time, and I wouldn't have been able to save Ginny from the chamber. You've also been helping me with my homework and listening to me about Black and the dementors."

"I'm always willing to help you whether you want me to or not." She smiled softly to show Harry how sincere her offer was.

He returned it and replied, "Thank you, Hermione. I couldn't have a better friend." She settled back against the coach and put her arms around his neck. He had one arm around her back and was clutching her close to his own body. Sighing contentedly, Hermione laid her cheek on Harry's now dry shoulder. Her eyes got heavier and heavier until she finally fell into much needed and deserved sleep. Feeling Hermione's breathing slow, Harry decided to not disturb her and drifted off himself.

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out. I love you guys thought. Before I took the last 11 or 12 chapters off, I had almost 21,000 hits! You guys are amazing, and I hope you like the story so far!


	3. Room of Fantasy and Wonder

Disclaimer: Sadly, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling not me.

A/N: I assume they mark editions of books here like they do in the United States.

Harry awoke first and noticed the bright light coming in the window. It had been dimmer earlier when he and Hermione had first come in the classroom. Glancing at the old watch on his wrist, he saw that a few hours had elapsed. He then turned to focus on how they were positioned on the couch. During their nap, Harry had shifted so that Hermione was lying on his chest with her legs curled up behind her.

She looked so peaceful that Harry couldn't bring himself to wake her up. Besides, the warmth was nice, and he really didn't want to move anyway. Rather than falling back asleep, Harry rubbed Hermione's back and thought back on the morning and the past few days. His mind was focused in particular on the sleeping girl in his arms.

They had been through so much together, even though they had only known each other for just over two years. Ron had been there too, but Hermione more so. She was always loyal, even if they were fighting. Harry knew he could always count on her, despite what may be going on. He started thinking about all her other traits. She was caring, generous, smart, a good friend, sweet but sassy, and… beautiful.

Backtracking for a moment, Harry dwelled on that last thought. He had never really thought about how Hermione looked. Before, he had considered her to be cute. Maybe not as pretty as Lavender or Parvati, but she was always cute. Now, he was starting to realize that she was growing up. With her body right on top of his, Harry could feel the curves starting to form.

The beginnings of her stirring awake stopped that line of thought. Her eyes opened, and she smiled at the sight of Harry. "That was nice. How long have I been asleep?"

"Just a couple hours. Lunch will be starting soon," Harry responded with a smile playing around his lips.

Hermione yawned. "I'm hungry, but I don't really want to get up." His heart rate accelerated as Hermione hugged him closer. Suddenly, a table full of food appeared before them. Harry started, causing Hermione to gape at him.

"The table!" he exclaimed, pointing at the small table situated in front of them.

"Where did that come from?" she asked. Even with the dregs of sleep still on her, Hermione's analytical side was working.

"I don't know. It kinda just appeared." Harry was confused. He'd seen a lot of things at Hogwarts but never anything like this.

"I don't remember there being a room here. There's a tapestry just up the hall, and this is supposed to be a blank wall." Hermione got up and lightly touched the wall next to the door to see if it was real. "I never read about this room in _Hogwarts, A History_," Hermione commented. Her expression was contemplative.

As if answering her wish, a heavy, leather-bound copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ showed up on the table with the food. "I think I'm starting to figure this room out," she said as she reached for the book. "This isn't an edition I've seen before. I don't remember an edition printed in 1978," Hermione commented after studying one of the first few pages. She started flipping through this book like she knew it well, which, Harry realized, she probably did. "Here's a section that isn't in the newer editions. Something called the _Room of Requirement_."

"What is that? I've never heard of it before."

"Neither had I. It says here that this room only appears when you're in great need of something, and it will give you whatever you require. However, this book also says it is merely a legend," Hermione paraphrased while peering at the tiny print.

"That sounds like this room, sort of. Minus the legend part, of course," Harry mused out loud. He started examining the room more closely. "What else does it say?"

Hermione glanced up at him. "That's it. The section is really small, and it doesn't say much else. All I know is that this section is not in any subsequent editions. I also don't think it's in any of the older ones either."

"What does that mean then? Why would this room supply us with a copy of a book that doesn't exist? It doesn't make sense." Both teens kept turning those questions over in their minds.

Hermione closed the book after a long pause. "Maybe we should give this to Professor Dumbledore. He might know a little more about it."

She started to stand up, but Harry held her back. "Probably, but you need to eat first," he answered to the questioning look in her eyes.

Her protests began but were cut off by a loud rumbling coming from her stomach. Harry just stared at her, and she glared back a little. "Fine," she said, finally caving in. "Let's be fast though. Something tells me we shouldn't wait too long with this."

They ate in record time and hurried over to Dumbledore's office. Getting past the statue guarding it was a little bit more of a problem. "Lemon drop?" Harry said, trying the previous year's password. "Drooble's, Sugar Quills, Blood Pops?" He tried a few more but to no avail. The stupid gargoyle refused to let them past. Hermione couldn't successfully guess the password either.

"You should try _Fizzing Whizbees_," rang out a clear and distinct voice from behind. This time, the gargoyle jumped aside to admit the Headmaster. "Hello, Harry and Hermione. I suppose you need to speak with me?"

"Yes, Professor, we do. Could we please discuss it in your office?" Hermione asked politely. Being that calm rook a lot of effort. Harry knew how much she wanted to talk about this discovery and what it could mean. She was practically bouncing from excitement.

"That would require you to come up the staircase, which I rather think my gargoyle would be disposed towards," responded Professor Dumbledore. He ascended the staircase, and Harry and Hermione wasted no time in following. Once they were all comfortably seated around the Headmaster's desk, he inquired as to the nature of their visit.

Hermione handed him the copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ in her hands. "This, sir. We found it in a room that isn't supposed to exist."

He examined the outside of the book carefully. "Would you be referring to the _Room of Requirement_?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other with similar expressions of astonishment. Having found his voice first, Harry choked out, "Y-you know about it?"

The elderly professor smiled over at them. "Why yes, Harry. There isn't much about this castle I don't know. What does the book have to do with it?"

"Professor, look at the publication date. There wasn't an edition printed that year," Hermione explained quickly. Harry suppressed a smirk as he glanced at his baffled friend.

Dumbledore looked at the publication page. "Yes, my dear. There was."

"What? I've never seen this date in any of the newer editions." Harry could sense Hermione's growing agitation. "All the other dates are always mentioned. Why not this one?" Harry laid a gentle hand on Hermione's arm, and this seemed to calm her a bit.

"It isn't mentioned, because this edition wasn't mass produced. A few copies were published, and then Ms. Bagshot decided not to release it to the public."

Harry was now a little more interested in the discussion. "Why would she do that?" he inquired.

"She claimed that it needed some editing. It was really rather sudden. Before then, Matilda had been excited about a few new sections. She gave me one of these advance copies," he explained after setting the book aside.

"One of those sections must have been on the Room of Requirement. It's only included in this edition. But why would she decide to leave it out?" Hermione mused aloud.

"Hermione's right. That doesn't make any sense. A small section on a legendary room wouldn't harm anything," Harry concurred.

"I've often wondered the same thing. I even asked Matilda about it once. Would you care to see the memory?"

Harry became even more confused at that statement. "Hold on. How can you show us your memory?"

Dumbledore walked over to a door and beckoned Harry and Hermione over. He opened the cabinet to reveal a stone basin filled with a silvery liquid. "This is called a pensieve. People use these to revisit memories or to clear their heads as I so often need to do."

Hermione, ever curious, asked, "How exactly does it work? I've read about them, but the books never go into great detail."

"It's simple. You have to focus on the memory you want, and," he put his wand to his temple and began to pull a string of the same silvery substance out, "then you just remove the memory and add it to the pensieve." Dumbledore lowered the strand into the mass and a picture began to form on the surface.

"What do we have to do to watch it?" Harry noticed the picture was moving and a little sound was coming from it.

"Just touch the surface of the liquid. You'll be transported into the memory itself. All we can do is watch though. The people in the memory will not be able to see or hear us."

"Okay then." Harry drew a deep breath as he unconsciously reached for Hermione's hand. With the hands that weren't clasped together, Harry and Hermione hesitantly touched the gleaming substance. Instantly, they felt themselves fall headlong into the basin. They found that they were standing with Dumbledore in a living room watching a woman and a younger version of their headmaster converse. The pair was drinking tea, and the far windows showed a bright, midafternoon sky.

"Matilda, thank you for that new copy of _Hogwarts, A History_. When will it be released to the public? I know a few of my students are impatient for those new sections you have talked about," Dumbledore asked calmly. Harry noticed that this twenty-year younger Dumbledore didn't look that much different from the Dumbledore standing beside him. Ms. Bagshot didn't appear to be much younger. Her long, curly hair was almost entirely gray, and there were wrinkles around her eyes and mouth.

A dark expression came over her face at the mention of the book, but it passed quickly. "Yes, I thought you would like it. However, I'm not publishing it. There are a few more revisions I need to make," Ms. Bagshot replied. Her voice quivered a little, but memory Dumbledore didn't seem to notice.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What kinds of revisions are you planning on making?" He sipped his tea, while hers sat shaking in her hand.

"That new research on the founders has to be incorporated. There are also a few older sections I'm thinking about removing. I would also like to do more studying into some of the legends surrounding Hogwarts," she said while attempting to steady her shaking. There was still a hint of anxiety in her voice.

"If you ever need help, you know that the castle is always open to you," Dumbledore offered before finishing the last of his tea. Thank you for the tea, Matilda. It's always a pleasure."

The real Dumbledore finally spoke, "That's all there is to that memory. Let us get back now." He took a sleeve of Harry's robes, and they all were pulled up and out of the pensieve. Dumbledore closed the cabinet, and the three of them sat back down around the large and ornate desk. "So, did either of you notice anything unusual about that?"

Truthfully, Harry thought the whole experience was strange, but that wasn't what he commented about. "Ms. Bagshot seemed a bit out of sorts. It was almost as though she was frightened of something."

Hermione agreed. "She was acting nervously, and she couldn't stop trembling."

"That's precisely what I've always thought. Unfortunately, I never could find out what caused her behavior. My only conclusion was that it had something to do with this book, and most likely that section."

"It seems like such a benign section though. What would cause her to remove it?" Hermione wondered. She was frowning, and Harry could see her working through the possibilities in her mind.

"Could it have something to do with Voldemort?" Harry asked after a moment of thought.

The headmaster's eyes twinkled over the rims of his half-moon spectacles. "That is the only logical reason. During this time, Voldemort was really coming to power. He was recruiting Death Eaters, and everyone lived in fear."

Harry had never heard that term before. "What is a _Death Eater_?"

Hermione answered before Dumbledore could, "Death Eaters were Voldemort's followers. Lot of people joined Voldemort about the time of the memory. Did Voldemort ever come after Ms. Bagshot?"

"Not that we know of. She never reported anything, and she's still alive. I don't even know of her being under any spells."

"Could you talk to her about it now? It's been almost twenty years," Harry suggested.

Dumbledore shifted to sitting back in his chair. "I've tried, but she won't admit to anything. Her fear is still very real."

"Then the real question now is, why would Voldemort try to hide the existence of the Room of Requirement?" Hermione added since they didn't have a way to glean the truth from Ms. Bagshot.

"That is something we must endeavor to discover. I am assuming you will want a certain Mr. Weasley to be included?"

Until that moment, both Harry and Hermione had forgotten all about their ginger-haired best friend. The two teens colored slightly and replied, "Of course," very solemnly.

"With that settled, I expect you both need to be off to fill in Ronald and do some homework." Harry and Hermione nodded and showed themselves out the door leaving the leather-bound book on the professor's desk.

They were still walking hand-in-hand as they strolled back to Gryffindor Tower, lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Harry said one of the questions floating around in his head aloud, "Do you think this has anything to do with me defeating Voldemort?"

Hermione was silent for another moment. "I'm not sure, but it probably does. Voldemort most likely took a lot of painstaking steps to hide his weaknesses. I just don't what that means together with the room."

"I don't know either. I'm trying to figure it out, but it feels like we're missing a piece of this puzzle." Hermione agreed with a nod of her head. "Anyway, I figured out a good way to put that room to use," Harry began after a minute or so of quiet.

"How, Harry?" She looked at him with a perplexed look on her face.

"You can sleep in there, Hermione! You can get extra sleep by having the room provide you with a bed, or you can study in there without anyone interrupting."

Hermione now had a smile occupying her face. "Wow, I never thought of that! Thank you, Harry! You're brilliant!" she exclaimed, and then she threw her arms around him in a big hug.

"What's with you guys and all the hugs?" Ron asked as he walked up to them. He had just been about to go into the portrait hole when he saw Harry and Hermione coming up the hall holding hands. Luckily for them, he didn't ask about that.

Hastily, and with red faces, Harry and Hermione pulled apart and faced Ron. "Oh, that was nothing. Harry just had a really good idea about something," Hermione explained in a surprisingly even tone considering how fast her heart was beating. She felt giddy though she wasn't sure why.

"What about?" Ron just looked at his blushing best friends wondering what was wrong with them.

"We have to show you something and then we'll explain everything," Harry said excitedly, all but forgetting what had just occurred. They dragged Ron off to the tapestry and into their secret room.

Ron stood agape looking at the disappearing door and into the spacious lounge in front of him. "What is this place?" His voice was teeming with awe.

"This is called the _Room of Requirement_. Just think of a need, and it will provide it. Of course, you do have to walk in front of the wall three times for it to appear," Hermione explained in what Harry thought of as her teacher voice.

"How did you guys find it?" Ron asked as he plopped down in a squashy armchair close to the fire.

Harry and Hermione took the couch across from him. "We were on our way back from the library and found it."

Ron cut in, "I wondered where you guys were. I came down, and no one had seen either of you." He had a few ideas about what they had been doing, but none of them were very correct.

"Yes, but that isn't the most important part. We found a book in here," Hermione began.

"Hermione, I know you love books, but I don't see," Ron interrupted her only to be interrupted himself.

"Wait, Ron. This book has to do with Voldemort," Harry cut in.

Ron blanched at the sound of his name. His voice was shaky when he spoke, "D-don't say that name."

Hermione lost all that was left of her patience. "Ron! Why are you so afraid of a name? That's quite ridiculous when you consider it." Her tone was sharp, and she noticed that Ron's ears were now red. "I'm sorry, Ron, but it is only a name. If he called himself Lord Flubberworm, would you still be afraid?"

Harry started to laugh, and soon the whole trio was laughing hysterically. "I guess not. I'll try to get over it, but this book thing doesn't sound good. Remember what happened last time we came across one of his books?" Ron reminded them of the events earlier that year.

"It's not the same this time. Professor Dumbledore has the book now. We were just coming back from his office when we met you," Hermione explained trying to pacify him.

"What kind of book is it?"

"Don't laugh, Ron. It's a copy of _Hogwarts, A History_," she began before she was cut off by a snort from Ron.

"You would get excited over that book."

"Ron, this book was different. It wasn't supposed to exist, because Voldemort stopped it from being published," Harry cut him off in defense of Hermione.

All amusement melted from Ron's face in an instant. "Why? Why is that book so important?" Ron now looked confused and sullen at the same time.

"We're not sure, but we think it's because of this room. Voldemort wanted to hide something, because he didn't want people to know that this room even existed," Hermione explained quickly.

"Now we have to figure out why. Dumbledore thinks that it might be the key to defeating Voldemort," Harry added. He was really proud of Ron, because he only flinched slightly at the mention of the dark lord's name.

"Maybe he didn't want anyone to know about it, because he hid something in it," Ron suggested.

"Of course! Students have probably hidden loads of stuff in here. They just ran past thinking, 'I need to hide something', and this room provided a storage space. We should try it." Hermione headed to the door with Harry and Ron in tow.

Harry got to the door first. "Wait, Hermione. We have to make sure no one's out there when we go out. I'd hate for Malfoy or Snape to find out about this place."

Hermione had halted when Harry began to speak, and now she was slightly red. "You're right. I didn't think about that."

Magically, a periscope-like thing appeared next to Ron. He checked the corridor while Harry gave Hermione an apologetic look that she accepted. "It's all clear," Ron said, and Harry let Hermione out in the hall before him. Soon, the three teens were staring at a blank wall. "So all we need to do now is walk in front of here three times?"

"Yes. Just think about finding a place to hide something," Hermione coached resolutely. Her face was a mask of deep concentration.

Ron and Harry followed her to the end of the hall, and they stalked to the other end of the hall. All of their thoughts were on hiding something. They were so focused that they didn't notice a figure down the hall accompanied by a familiar cat. "Hey! What are you three doin'?" shouted Filch from beside the tapestry.

Harry recovered the quickest. "N-nothing. We were on our way back to our tower," he stammered out.

Filch wasn't convinced. "Aren't you goin' to dinner?" He looked like he felt like punishing them, but he always kind of looked that way.

"We are, but I forgot my bookbag in my dormitory," Hermione lied. She wasn't that much more believable than Harry.

"Why are they," he gestured to Harry and Ron, " with ya then?"

Ron jumped in at this point, "We were walking to dinner together, and when she said she forgot something, we just decided to go with her." Ron's falsehood was convincing, but Filch reamed them for a few minutes more. Finally, he let them go to their tower.

Defeated, Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked slowly to the portrait of the Fat Lady. They all thought about sneaking back, but Filch would undoubtedly have Mrs. Norris watching that corridor. "You should probably get your bag. Filch may be watching," Harry suggested once they were at the portrait hole.

"Yeah. I'll be right back," and she disappeared into Gryffindor Tower.

Ron looked at Harry as the portrait swung closed. "Harry, what's going on between you and Hermione?"

Harry felt his face burn. "What? Why do you ask?"

"Well, you guys were gone for a long time this morning, and you both have been acting oddly lately."

"No, there isn't. This morning we found the room and talked to Dumbledore," Harry recounted, leaving out the part about their nap.

The expression on Ron's face was unreadable. "Oh, okay then. I was just wondering…" he trailed off. They lapsed into an awkward silence that was only made worse by the arrival of Hermione with her bag. The best friends walked in silence; their minds all set on different things. Harry was thinking about his best friend of the fairer sex and about Ron's suspicions. Hermione was trying to figure out what Voldemort was hiding in the Room of Requirement. Ron was adding dates in his head and thinking of other people in the school.

Dinner was more of the same. Harry kept dwelling on Hermione and how she had been acting toward himself. Ever since he had fallen off his broomstick, Hermione had been hanging around him even more than usual. They had always hugged each other, but never this much. And what about the holding hands thing? Harry remembered reaching for her hand, and she took it with great relief.

Then he focused on the episode in the Room of Requirement that morning. Hermione had shown him her vulnerable side. Rarely did Hermione let anyone see her cry, least of all Harry and Ron. They ended up sleeping together on the same couch. Even then, Harry could vividly remember the feeling of Hermione's warm body on his chest. He was still stunned to find that he now found her to be beautiful. Harry looked up at Hermione who was still lost in thought and was struck by how pretty she was.

He chanced a glance at Ron as well. He seemed equally preoccupied with his thoughts. Harry only hoped that Ron wasn't also thinking of their last conversation. That had been really strange, and Harry was surprised that Ron had noticed everything as well. Ron wasn't known for his observation skills, so if it was obvious to him, then who else saw it?

Harry nearly missed the end of dinner, but Hermione brought him back from his reverie. "Harry, let's go," she said with her hand on his arm. He took her hand, and as he got up, he noticed the teachers down the hall. Struck with an idea, he searched the table over the heads of the passing students. "Harry, who are you looking for?" Hermione asked just as Harry spotted Professor Lupin in the sea of black cloaks.

"I'll meet you guys back in the Common Room." Harry didn't look back, and a bewildered Ron and Hermione disappeared in the crowd. Professor Lupin was waiting for Harry at the front of the hall. Once most people had left to go to their Common Rooms, Harry was able to find his way to the professor.

"I suppose you want to talk about what happened at the Quidditch match?"

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this plot twist not in the original. I've decided to start my Voldemort stuff earlier, because it was put off for several chapters before. Much thanks for your patience. Happy readings!


	4. A New Chapter Unfolds

Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, capisce?

A/N: Introduction for the Marauder's Map was taken straight from Chapter 10 of POA.

Once they had gotten to Lupin's office, Harry really got to see how ill the professor looked. His cheeks had a slight hollowness, and his eyes were irritated and sunken. Lupin also seemed thinner than when Harry had last seen him. He knew that Lupin had been out sick, but he hadn't realized how serious it was.

He took a sip from a goblet on his desk. "I heard about the dementors at the match. Is there any chance of fixing your Nimbus?" Lupin inquired with genuine concern.

"No," he admitted quietly. "I have to get a new broom before our next match. I don't understand why this is happening to me and not anyone else," Harry pronounced with frustration.

Lupin settled back and surveyed Harry with a warm eye. "Harry, what do you relive when they come near you? Any images or sounds?"

Vividly, he remembered the screaming that assaulted him each time before passing out. "Yes, I hear a woman screaming and see a flash of green light. I think it is a memory of Voldemort killing my mother." Harry had to work to clear the lump that formed in his throat.

"Harry, don't for a moment think you are weaker than anyone else, because the Dementors affect you this way. Most other people have never experienced a true horror like witnessing Voldemort killing their parents. That is why you are affected more than others," he explained.

That reason had never occurred to Harry. Other people just felt cold and hopeless around Dementors. They didn't relive things or experience a sensation of insanity. Lupin's theory made complete sense. "Well, what can I do to stop it? There has to be something other than erasing my memory," Harry reasoned. His need for a solution almost bordered on desperation.

Lupin seemed to debate with himself for a moment. Once he had considered both sides of the argument, he began to speak with a hint of hesitancy, "There is a spell designed to ward off Dementors. Do you recall that silvery mist I shot at the Dementors on the train?"

Though Harry had been losing consciousness at the time, he had a vague memory of a fine, silver mist coming from Lupin's wand. "Yes. What is that spell called?" In his two and half years at Hogwarts, Harry had never learned of a spell that seemed similar.

"That, Harry, is called the Patronus Charm. Typically, a true Patronus assumes the form of a particular animal. Every person has one that is specific to them," Lupin said, switching into teaching mode momentarily. "This piece of magic is exceptionally difficult. Many adult wizards cannot produce a true Patronus."

Harry paused to consider the possibilities. Lupin didn't even conjure a full Patronus that one time, so Harry wasn't sure he could either. "Professor, do you think you could teach me the charm?" he asked after a few moments. He knew that he at least wanted to try. Anything that could keep that screaming away was worth a shot.

Lupin surprised Harry by smiling a little. "I will do my best, Harry," he promised. "Can I ask one small favor in return?"

Harry was so happy, he probably would have given his first born if Lupin had asked. "Sure, Professor. Anything you want," he agreed eagerly. He could barely contain his excitement.

Lupin chuckled. "Could we start after the holidays? I have quite a bit of work to do before break," he requested courteously. "I fell ill at a really inconvenient time."

"No problem, Professor," Harry assented. He stood up, about to leave, when he remembered another question. "Would you mind teaching Ron and Hermione as well?"

"It would be my pleasure, Harry. Now run along before Mr. Filch tries to give you a detention." Harry took his leave and rushed back to Gryffindor Tower. Ron and Hermione were waiting for him by the fireplace.

"What did you want to talk to Lupin for?" Ron asked as Harry plopped down on the couch next to Hermione. Their homework was spread on the table in front of them, but only Hermione's looked like it had been worked on. She put it aside as soon as Harry sat down to give him her full attention.

"I asked him about that charm to ward off Dementors. The Patronus charm," Harry responded.

Hermione perked up instantly. "What did he say, Harry?" she inquired excitedly. Her body shifted toward him, and she dropped her quill on the top paper. Harry saw an inkblot form on the previously dried paragraph she had written earlier. Hermione didn't notice.

"He said he would start training us after Christmas," Harry announced with a huge grin on his face. He waited for Hermione to realize what he said.

It took a few seconds. "Wait, you said 'us'. What do you mean?" Her and Ron quickly came to the same conclusion. "He has agreed to teach all three of us?"

Harry laughed at the amazed look on her face. "Yes. Lupin is going to teach all three of us," Harry reiterated slowly. Hermione squealed and gave Harry a big hug. Ron just sat on the other end of the couch with an amused expression on his face. "I take it you're excited then."

She nodded her head furiously. "I've read that it is an extremely difficult spell, but I'm sure we will all get it," Hermione assured the two boys and herself. "I can't wait for our lessons to start!" she exclaimed.

"I can," Ron volunteered. "We have enough homework as it is." His remark caused all three teens to laugh. Soon after, each of them drifted off to bed. Harry fell asleep with thoughts of Hermione running through his mind.

The next couple weeks passed by rather quickly up until the last weekend before the holidays. Hogwarts filled with a festive mood, and it affected all professors with the exception of Snape. Having less homework, students regularly went outside for massive snow fights or stayed by the fireplaces and played wizarding chess. Hermione seemed to be in better spirits since she took Harry's suggestion and got more sleep. She dropped Divination, so her homework load decreased slightly. Things between Harry and Hermione hadn't been awkward, but there was a strange energy between them. Ron didn't seem to notice, and Harry wasn't sure how to deal with it.

Both Ron and Hermione decided to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, and they were ready for the Hogsmeade visit. Reminder of that trip dampened Harry's cheer mildly, but he didn't want to ruin it for his friends. The day arrived, and Harry prepared by borrowing a broomstick catalogue from Wood. He needed to order a new broomstick before the season started back up. During practices, he used one of the school's Comet Two-Sixties, and he felt the broom should be converted to firewood. Harry saw them off and headed back to Gryffindor Tower before Fred and George ambushed him.

"Aren't you guys going to Hogsmeade? It's the last weekend before next term," Harry asked them. He wondered what they could be planning. The twins had matching smirks on their faces that Harry didn't trust.

"That's what this is about," they intoned together. "Harry, we want to show you the secret of our success." They pulled him into an empty classroom. George pulled a yellowed piece of parchment from the folds of his cloak.

Harry eyed the parchment skeptically. "An old piece of parchment? That's the secret of your success?" he asked. His tone betrayed his disbelief.

"Just an old piece of parchment?" Fred scoffed. He touched his wand to the parchment and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." A message appeared, surprising Harry. It read:

"_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_

_Purveyors of aid to Magical Mischief-Makers_

_Are proud to present_

_The Marauders' Map"_

The message was then replaced by a map depicting every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. Dots covered the map, and each was labeled with the name of a student or teacher. Harry noted a couple routes leading off the map in the direction of Hogsmeade.

He made a point to ask about them. "Do these really lead to Hogsmeade?" His fingers traced the paths to the edge of the parchment.

"Yep. There are seven in all," Fred began.

"But Filch knows about these four," George continued.

"And this one caved in," Fred picked up.

"And this one is right underneath the Whomping Willow," George said.

"So you are left with this one which leads you straight into Honeydukes' cellar," they finished together.

They graciously shoved it into Harry's hands. "Where did you get this?" he asked as he marveled at the wonderful creation in his fingers.

"We nicked it from Filch's office a few years ago. We know it by heart, so we want to give it to you," Fred informed him.

"Why are you giving it to me and not Ron?" Harry felt this was more of a brotherly thing. They should hand it down to Ron rather than him.

"We feel you will have more use for it," George said in a suggesting tone. "Here's a tip: just say 'mischief managed' to wipe it clean. Always wipe it clean after you use it."

"See you in Hogsmeade, Harry," and the twins left.

Harry just stared at the aged parchment in his hands. He watched at dots labeled Fred and George ran down the Grand Staircase and out the front entrance. They disappeared as they ran off the map into Hogsmeade. Immediately, Harry looked for the secret passageway and saw that the entrance was directly outside the classroom he was currently in. He checked to make sure no one was around before going out to the one-eyed witch statue. Harry tapped the statue and muttered the password that appeared on the map. The hump opened to reveal a ramp descending into darkness. Harry hoisted himself in, and the hump closed, encasing him in darkness.

Though he couldn't see anything, he felt his descent as the ramp moved beneath his bum. The air grew dry and dusty, and Harry could almost taste the dirt on his tongue. He hit bottom and coughed as the dust rose. "Lumos," he aid and peered around at the low, dark tunnel. Harry wiped the map clean and tucked it into his cloak.

Harry took the tunnel at a brisk pace though he had to hunch a little to fit. He kept the light low to avoid tripping over anything. He could feel the tunnel take a gradual upward angel. It ended, and Harry noticed a trapdoor directly above his head. Pushing it open revealed the sight of a typical shop basement. He saw boxes of Jelly Slugs, Sugar Quills, and Ice Mice.

Carefully, he replaced the trapdoor and marveled at how seamlessly it fit into the floor. The only sign that Harry had come through was a little displaced dust. Footsteps creaked down the stairs, and Harry hid behind a stack of crates. While the man fumbled around in a box of Jelly slugs, Harry crept up the stairs and out into the crowded store. He knew he would be safe in a sea of black Hogwarts cloaks.

Muggle candy stores had nothing on this store. The walls were filled with nothing but boxes and boxes of wizarding specialties. One wall did have Muggle candies, but most students weren't interested in those plain old candy bars. Another wall was devoted to special effects candies, and yet another contained candies for special tastes. Harry scanned the crowd and quickly located his two best friends. Ron's red hair stood out vividly in the crowd.

Harry quickly pushed his way over to them. They stood by the Special Tastes wall. Ron was examining a jar of cockroach clusters while Hermione wasn't expressing interest in anything. Her thoughts were with Harry back in the castle. Ron was too excited to notice, but Harry saw that Hermione's mind was elsewhere.

Ron held up a box of Blood Pops. "Do you think Harry would like these?" Ron jokingly asked Hermione.

"Sorry, I haven't acquired a taste for blood yet," Harry responded. Both Ron and Hermione jumped and looked at him as though they had seen a ghost.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "How did you get here?"

Harry smiled and began to explain. He described how Fred and George gave him the Marauders' Map. Honeydukes was too crowded to show them the map, but he told them all about it. Ron seemed upset. "They should've given it to me. I'm their brother!" he fumed to no one in particular.

Hermione felt anxious, and her was speeding as fast as it had when Harry surprised them. "Are you sure it isn't dangerous?" she asked with concern.

"Fred and George have used it for years, and nothing bad had happened to them. Besides, think of all the uses it has! I can sneak into Hogsmeade," Harry pointed out.

"We can sneak around Hogwarts without getting caught," Ron continued.

Hermione interrupted with a serious thought, "And we can see Sirius Black if he comes into the school."

"I hadn't thought of that," Harry conceded.

Ron continued to babble, "We can sneak into the kitchens, off to Hagrid's…" He completely missed the last part of the conversation as he day-dreamed of all the mischief they could get into.

Harry mused over Hermione's suggestion. Sirius Black wouldn't be able to enter the school without showing up on the map. Hermione always had the smart ideas in their group. She was smart, but she was also pretty. Harry was finally getting used to that idea. It was easy when Hermione's chocolate brown eyes were staring back at him.

Ron chose that moment to break out of his reverie. He noticed Harry and Hermione stare at each other before glancing at him. "What?" he asked curiously.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Come on. Let's go to the Three Broomsticks and introduce Harry to Butterbeer." She hooked her arms through theirs, and they set off into the blizzard roaring outside. Luckily, Harry had been wearing his cloak when Fred and George ambushed him. It was bitterly cold, so he wished he had remembered to grab his scarf and gloves.

They trudged through the icy road down to the pub. Inside, it was warm and crowded with even more Hogwarts students. Hermione spotted an empty table in the corner next to the tree, and her and Harry went to claim it while Ron went to the counter for drinks. The table wasn't close to the fireplace, but the mass of students kept the air warm Their shivering subsided, and they sat just staring at each other in awkward silence.

Harry cleared his throat. "Hermione, thanks for not asking me to turn it in," he said to break the unsettling quiet.

She smiled. "Well, I trust you not to do anything foolish or really dangerous. On the other hand, I understand why the twins didn't give it to Ron," she explained. They laughed appreciatively, and Harry checked to make sure Ron was still at the counter.

"Hermione," Harry began, but he found himself unable to go on. He wanted to her about what had been going on between them lately, but the words weren't coming.

Hermione seemed eager for Harry to continue. "Yes, Harry?" She watched him as though trying to guess what he was thinking. Unfortunately, Ron came back then with three tankards full of Butterbeer.

"Never mind," Harry muttered as he accepted his tankard. He was poised to take a sip when the bell on the door jingled. Suddenly, two pairs of hands shoved him under the table causing him to spill half his Butterbeer down the front of his robes. Hermione charmed the Christmas tree to in front of their table. Harry watched through the lower branches as four pairs of legs sat down at the table next to them.

He took a sip and wondered why they wanted him out of sight when Cornelius Fudge's voice drifted over from the next table. Harry tensed and began to listen as Fudge said, "Rosmerta, my dear. Why don't you join us for a bit?"

"Don't mind if I do," came a voice that Harry assumed belonged to the barmaid. "Business has taken a hit since these Dementors came to town. How much longer will we have to put up with them, Minister?"

"Until we catch Sirius Black, I'm afraid. He's proving quite elusive," Fudge responded in a low voice.

"I remember when he attended Hogwarts," Professor Flitwick reminisced. "He was highly intelligent, but he never applied himself."

McGonagall started reminiscing as well. "His two best friends, Remus Lupin and James Potter, were just as smart. They even let little Peter Pettigrew hang around with them." Her voice had a note of sorrow.

Ron and Hermione gasped audibly. Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach. He slumped against Hermione's leg, and he felt her put her hand on his head. All of them couldn't help but continue listening intently.

"Nothing shocked me more than hearing that Black betrayed the Potters and killed Pettigrew. I never could figure out what went wrong," McGonagall admitted. Harry gasped loudly, and Hermione put a finger to his lips.

"He became a Death Eater. His friends made a mistake by trusting him," Fudge pronounced with an air of knowing.

"he was the Potters' Secret Keeper, so he was the only one who knew where they lived. Dumbledore volunteered, but James wanted it to be his best friend," McGonagall explained.

"When I want ta go rescue Harry, I found Black there. He tried at get me ter give Harry ta him, but I refused. So he lent me his motorbike knowing he wasn't going ta need it in Azkaban! I wished I would'a known, then we wouldn't be talking about him now!" Hagrid growled. Harry heard shushing noises.

Silence ensued for a moment at that table. Madame Rosmerta broke it by asking, "Why did he want you to give Harry to him?"

"Another little know fact: Sirius Black is Harry Potter's godfather," McGonagall half whispered.

After a little more conversation, the four adults departed from the pub, and Madame Rosmerta went back to the counter. Harry came out from under the table and sat down with his half-empty tankard. His face was pained, and he was completely quiet. Hermione reached out to take Harry's hand, but he didn't react.

"Harry?" Hermione ventured weakly. She felt terrible for him, and she wanted him to respond. Hermione hated Sirius Black for causing Harry all this pain.

Harry got up without meeting anyone's eyes. "We should go. It's getting late," he said numbly. He walked out of the pub without a backward glance to see if Ron and Hermione were following.

"Ron, go up to the castle. I'll go with Harry to make sure he's okay. We'll meet back in the Common Room," Hermione ordered.

"But…" Ron began to protest.

"No, someone will notice if neither of us go through the gates. Harry needs at least one of us, so please go!" she pleaded with him before running off after Harry. She caught up with him just as he got to Honeydukes. "Harry, wait," she called out and grabbed his arm. He spun around to face her, and she saw he was ready to cry.

"Why aren't you going back with Ron?" he asked quietly.

"Because you need me," she pointed out defiantly. There was no way she was going to let him go off by himself.

Harry tried to convince her to leave. "Won't anyone be suspicious if you don't come in through the front gates?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm usually lost in the crowd. Ron would be missed, because he's too noticeable."

"Okay. Let's slip down to the cellar," Harry gave up. He knew there was no use arguing with Hermione once she set her mind to something.

Harry and Hermione worked their way through the still-crowded candy store. They crept down the stairs to the trapdoor. Harry indicated for Hermione to go first, but she politely declined. "I don't want to give you the opportunity to stare at my backside," she explained jokingly. Her answer brought a grin to Harry's face. He crawled in, and Hermione climbed in behind him. They illuminated the tips of their wands, and Hermione shut the door behind them.

They moved along the tunnel until it leveled out. Hermione stopped Harry by calling his name out. "Yes, Hermione?" he asked after turning around. He waited as she worked out what she wanted to say.

"Can we talk for a while?" she finally asked. "It's easier if Ron isn't here." Harry nodded, and they both sat down. "Harry, how are you feeling? I want the truth."

"I'm angry enough to go after him myself! He was their friend, and he betrayed them!" Harry growled. He began to angrily knead his fist, and Hermione could see the fury in his eyes.

She put her hands on his to stop them. "Harry, what would that solve? You would playing right into his hands. That will just give him the opportunity to kill you," she reasoned. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she tried to blink them away, but a few escaped in trails down her cheeks.

Harry's anger vanished, and he had a need to wrap his arms around her. "Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry. Please don't cry," he apologized. He absolutely hated making her cry.

"No, I'm sorry. It isn't you. I just can't bear the thought of him hurting you," she tried to say calmly. Her tears wet the left shoulder of his robes, but he didn't really care.

"You have nothing to be sorry fort. I know how you feel, and I promise I'll try to stay safe," Harry assured her. "C'mon, Ron will be wondering what happened to us." He held out his hand and helped her up. She stumbled a little and ended up in Harry's arms. Their faces were so close, and Harry had a sudden desire to touch her lips. All he could think about was how much he actually liked her as he reached down to brush his lips against hers.

It only lasted a short moment, and Hermione was too shocked to respond. She looked up at Harry with a confused expression on her face. Harry blushed and began to start apologizing. Hermione put a finger to his lips again to quiet him. She smiled and kissed him sweetly. He kissed her back, and they spent a few minutes figuring out how to enjoy it.

They broke apart and sported a matching set of grins. "I hate to ruin the moment, but we really should get back to the Common Room. Ron will start to wonder," Hermione reminded Harry.

"What will we tell Ron?" Harry wondered out loud.

/

The Common Room was empty when they got back, because everyone was at dinner. Strangely, neither of the teens felt hungry, and they couldn't stop looking at each other and smiling. Harry and Hermione sat down on the couch closest to the fireplace. Harry still held Hermione's hand, but he didn't know how close to sit to her. Hermione settled the issue by sitting as close to Harry as she could get. He wanted to talk about the kiss, but he couldn't seem to get his throat to work. Again, Hermione fixed the problem by bringing it up first. "Harry, we need to talk about what just happened," she said hesitantly.

"Oh," Harry managed as his ears turned red. "Er… Did you not like it then?" he asked while looking down at the carpet. He couldn't look her in the eyes if she was going to tell him he was a bad kisser.

Hermione turned his face up to look at her. "No, I liked it very much. I'm just wondering why you kissed me." Her eyes searched his as though she could pull the answer directly from his brain. "Do you like me?"

Harry cleared his throat and licked his dry lips. "I do like you, Hermione," he said hoarsely. Mustering all of the Gryffindor courage he could, Harry asked, "Hermione, will you be my girlfriend?"

Hermione grinned as wide as her face would allow and threw her arms around Harry's neck. "Yes!" she answered enthusiastically. Harry gladly wrapped her in a hug. She turned her face to meet his in another kiss. Harry was blown away. He never thought Hermione would actually agree to be his girlfriend.

Ron chose that moment to walk into the Common Room. He saw Harry and Hermione and immediately pulled a piece of paper out of his robes. Harry opened his eyes after the kiss was over and noticed Ron studying the rather large parchment in his hand. Hermione turned around when she saw the shocked look on Harry's face. They moved apart quickly. "Ron, how long have you been standing there?" Hermione asked in a somewhat steady voice while she attempted to smooth the wrinkles out of her skirt.

"Long enough," he answered shortly. His eyes were still focused on the paper.

Harry stood up to try and get a better look at the paper. "What are you looking at?" Harry inquired with lots of curiosity. Ron didn't usually focus on anything this much except Quidditch.

"Man!" Ron exclaimed and threw his hands up. "Professor Lupin won!"

"Won what?" Harry and Hermione said in unison.

Ron explained, "There was a running bet on when you guys would go out." He had the sense to look ashamed when met with their looks of shock. "The bets started last year, and Professor Lupin placed his the most recently. He won by betting on this Christmas."

"Are you kidding me?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Hermione, you're better at Arithmancy. How much did he win?" Ron inquired and flung the paper at her before flopping on the couch.

She took it eagerly and began studying. Harry looked over her shoulder at the list of names and dates. "Wow, there are quite a few teachers on here," Harry noted. "How many people are on the list?"

"Over 150 at last count. Many of them placed multiple bets. My bet was at the end of this year," Ron said. His ears were still a little red. "So how much did he win, Hermione?"

Hermione dropped her hands in disbelief. "The total comes out to 10,764 galleons," she announced. She looked to Harry with a look of bewilderment on her face. Harry imagined it matched the expression on his face.

"Bloody hell. I guess I will let everyone know who to pay," Ron said and pocketed the list once more. He looked at Hermione, who seemed frozen in her shock. "Oy, Hermione. What's wrong?"

She blinked as though waking from a trance. "How did everyone see something we didn't?" she asked Harry. "How is that possible?" Her voice went up several decibels. Harry put steadying hands on her shoulders which seemed to calm her down some.

"You're just mad that for once, everyone else knew something you didn't," Ron responded with his usual finesse. Hermione began to fume even more visibly and started shooting daggers at Ron with her eyes. Harry gave Ron a look of warning, and he took the hint by muttering "good night" and running up to the dormitory. The argument had been narrowly avoided.

Hermione relaxed after a few minutes. "Are you okay now?" Harry asked with extreme caution. He didn't want Hermione to round on him this time.

She nodded and wrapped her hand in his. "Yeah. Ron was right though. I was jealous that everyone else knew something before me, especially about something so apparently obvious," she admitted.

"I guess you owe Ron an apology then. That was a lot to take in, and he was his usual insensitive self, but he wasn't trying to be mean," Harry counseled wisely. "Besides, he now has to put up with his two best friends being a couple now."

"True," Hermione considered. "I'll apologize in the morning. It will make out Christmas Break more enjoyable if we're all on good terms."

"Definitely," Harry smiled before kissing her again with enough sweetness to take her breath away.

A/N: Sorry this chapter has taken so long. I just wanted to finish my other one, so I can focus on getting this done before I go to college next year. I hope I shall succeed!


	5. Closer Together and Farther Apart

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, but he is my latest voodoo doll. Bwahahaha!

A/N: I had to reload an edited version, because an anonymous review pointed out an inconsistency in my story. If you didn't notice it then it doesn't matter. I just needed to fix it!

Morning arrived, and Hermione did apologize to Ron like she promised. Ron graciously accepted, but Harry suspected it had more to do with his relief that she wasn't still yelling at him. He was also still plotting his next bet scheme, so he wanted to be on Hermione's good side. The trio headed down to breakfast in high spirits to start the first day of Christmas Break.

The were just sitting down to their eggs and bacon when Hedwig flew in a dropped a note in Harry's lap before flying off. "I wonder who that could be from," Hermione mused as Harry unfolded the note.

"It's from Hagrid," Harry said while scanning the short note. "He wants us to come by after breakfast. Something must be up, because his handwriting is worse than normal." The note was also tearstained, causing some of the ink to blur.

Harry looked at his two companions. "It's been a while since we went down there," Ron choked through a mouthful of food. Hermione stayed silent but nodded her agreement. They quickly scarfed down some breakfast and exited the nearly empty Great Hall. A quick detour allowed them to grab their cloaks and gloves, and then they were off to Hagrid's hut.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had to brave several inches of snow though luckily the blizzard had died down. Finally, they made it to the hut where Harry knocked on the front door. Hagrid opened it, and he looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot as though he hadn't slept in days, and there were tear tracks covering his cheeks and disappearing into his thick mane of hair. Wordlessly, he admitted them into the main room like a funeral director into a viewing room. Buckbeak munched on something bloody while laying on Hagrid's bed.

They were seated before Hermione expressed her concern. "Hagrid, what happened? Is it about Buckbeak?" she asked tenderly. She laid her tiny hand on top of his gigantic one in a gesture of true compassion.

Hagrid's black eyes crinkled, and big tears flowed into his beard. "I'm not goin' ter lose my job," he said blankly. He coughed through a heavy sob. "Buckbeak's bein' put on trial in front o' the Committee on the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures!" Hagrid announced before breaking down. Hermione jumped up to envelope him in a hug.

"He could be acquitted. All of the Gryffindors in that class know that Malfoy provoked Buckbeak. We can be witnesses," Harry offered. It was hard to see Harry like that.

Hagrid violently shook his head, jostling Harry around. "No, Malfoy's got the whole committee in his pocket. They won' go against him. They'll convict him and exec-exec…" He broke down into sobs that threatened to throw Hermione across the room. Wisely, she moved farther away to where she could just rub his shoulder. Ron jumped up and started rummaging around in the kitchen.

"What are you doing, Ron?" Hermione inquired in a sort of half-whisper that barely carried over Hagrid's deafening sobs.

Ron stopped with a teakettle in his hand. "Making tea." He noticed Harry and Hermione's bewildered expressions. "What?" he asked. "It's what my mum does when someone's upset." He ignored them and continued to boil water for tea. By the time the kettle whistled, Hagrid had calmed down marginally. Ron served them all huge steaming mugs of tea, and the room was silent apart from the sound of crunching bones.

"I'm sorry. I just don' wan' ter lose Buckbeak. He's not a bad hippogriff," Hagrid apologized. Buckbeak looked up and squawked softly as if thanking Hagrid. He turned to give him a large, wet smile.

Hermione launched into a whole legal strategy concerning the trial. She proposed that the students send the committee their memories, because they couldn't ignore that kind of evidence. Seeing Harry's confusion, Hermione explained how people could extract or copy memories and view them in something called a pensieve. She wanted to start researching immediately, and Harry offered his help. They shared matching grins that Hagrid couldn't mistake. "Who won the pool, Ron?" he asked.

"Professor Lupin won over 10,000 galleons!" Ron informed him.

Harry groaned, "Not you, too!" Hagrid began to laugh heartily, and soon they were all laughing. They ended their visit on a cheery note, and Hermione assured Hagrid that she would have the research done by April twentieth, the day of the hearing. The trio headed back up to the castle, and Hermione led them into the empty library. Even Ron spent a few hours diligently researching cases for Hagrid to cite while at the hearing. Harry and Hermione together found a lot of information on memory spells and thought spheres before Madame Pince kicked the three best friends out of the library.

They spent the days leading up to Christmas with a sort of schedule. They researched in the mornings, had snowball fights or played games in the afternoon, and sat around the fire at night. Harry and Hermione began to grow more comfortable with each other as they practiced a few more tentative kisses. Because the castle was so deserted, Ron hung out with them and rarely let them have any time alone. The friends were still having fun, and they were enjoying their break from all the homework, even Hermione.

Christmas morning came, and Harry awoke to a mound of presents sitting on the trunk at the foot of his bed. Ron was already ripping into his parcels with great fervor. Harry opened the packages one-by-one. He got a hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley, a packet of rock cakes from Hagrid, a book on Quidditch from Hermione, and another package that didn't come with a tag. It was long and thin, and the wrappings were simple.

"Who's that from?" Ron asked through a mouthful of treacle tart.

Harry turned the package over in his hands. "Don't know. Doesn't say," he responded. His curiosity was piqued, but he was hesitant to open it.

Ron looked at him expectantly. "Well open it!" he exclaimed.

"Open what?" Hermione asked as she walked in the room carrying Crookshanks in her arms. Ron immediately hid Scabbers inside the pocket of his pajamas. She cleared the torn wrappings from the foot of Harry's bed before sitting down.

Harry showed her the package. "It doesn't have a tag."

She examined it briefly before handing it back over. "Go ahead. I want to see, too," she encouraged him.

Harry looked between the expectant faces of his girlfriend and his best friend. He sighed and began to pull open the ribbon. "Here I go," he muttered to no one in particular. He couldn't explain why he felt such a sense of foreboding, but he was not comfortable with opening this package. The box contained a brand new broomstick, which would seem harmless enough. "Is this what I think it is?" Harry stared at it in shock.

"It's a Firebolt!" Ron exclaimed. "Who would send it to you?"

He began to reach inside the box, but Hermione stopped him. "No. Don't touch it!" she yelled. "I think that gift is from Sirius Black!"

"Oh, Hermione! Sirius Black's on the run!" scoffed Ron. "He doesn't have the time to walk into a Quidditch supply store and buy a Firebolt. Besides, where'd he get the money? Azkaban doesn't give that much money to its inmates," he reasoned out.

Hermione couldn't contain her anger this time. She began to yell, "If you ever paid attention to other pureblood families, you would know the House of Black is one of the wealthiest in the wizarding world. Because Black is the Head of the House, he controls all of the money, and the Ministry didn't freeze his vaults after he was imprisoned." They argued on and on for another ten minutes.

Finally, Harry got fed up with their bickering. "Will both of you please calm down?" Harry shouted over their fighting. Ron and Hermione were shamed into being quiet. "Thank you. Hermione could be right about this, Ron. This gift is very suspicious." He just couldn't ignore his bad feelings about the broom. "I think I'll take it to McGonagall for her to check out," he conceded calmly while rewrapping the broomstick carefully.

"You always take her side!" Ron huffed before marching out of the boys' dormitory.

Harry and Hermione watched as he left and then looked at each other. "Thank you, Harry," Hermione said in a more even tone. Her eyes apologized for the yelling, but she had no intention of chasing after Ron to apologize.

"I think you may be right, so I want to get this to McGonagall as fast as I can. Do you mind leaving while I change?" Harry asked politely.

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Sure. I need to change out of my pajamas anyway. I'll meet you in the Common Room in ten minutes." Crookshanks followed her out of the dormitory, and she shut the door behind him. Harry listened for a few moments but heard no yelling. Ron must not have been down in the Common Room.

He dressed quickly and carried the broomstick down into the empty Common Room. Hermione greeted him with a peck on the lips, and they walked hand-in-hand down to breakfast. Few students or faculty were in the Great Hall, but McGonagall was sitting at the Head Table. Ron was nowhere in sight. McGonagall spied them coming from over the top of her copy of _The Daily Prophet_. "Good morning, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," she said as she put her paper aside. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Professor," the two teens said together.

"How can I help you?" she asked brusquely.

Harry laid the wrapped broomstick on the table in front of her. "We think Sirius Black sent me this broomstick," Harry explained. "It doesn't have a tag, and I can't think of anybody else who would send it to me unless you and Professor Dumbledore are doing me another favor." Harry remembered how he got his Nimbus back in his first year.

McGonagall surveyed the broomstick carefully. "Neither Professor Dumbledore nor myself had anything to do with this broom, Potter. Where did you find it?"

"It was in the pile with the rest of my presents. It could be cursed." Hermione nodded her agreement, and McGonagall seemed convinced.

"I will have Madame Hooch and Professor Flitwick check it for any possible curses, jinxes, and hexes. We should return it to you before the Quidditch season resumes," McGonagall assured him. Harry knew McGonagall wouldn't want to damage Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch Cup. She resumed her perusal of her newspaper, and Harry and Hermione took that as their cue to leave.

They took seats around the middle of the table. None of the Gryffindors who had stayed at Hogwarts were at breakfast. Harry and Hermione ate in companionable silence, and Ron didn't come to breakfast until just as the couple was leaving. Ron and Hermione gave each other a wide berth, and Ron went quietly into the Great Hall. Harry and Hermione returned to Gryffindor Tower for some time together.

The Common Room was empty, so Harry and Hermione curled up on the couch. "Harry, why do you like me?" Hermione asked quietly.

Harry was taken aback. He thought for a moment before answering, "I think you are just brilliant, Hermione."

"Really?" she wondered aloud. Her face turned up to his with a smile.

Harry couldn't help but grin back. "Absolutely. You're the brightest witch of our age, and you're really pretty," he said confidently.

Hermione's smile grew wider. "You really think so?"

"Yes," he responded before planting a sweet kiss on her lips. She sighed contentedly, and the crackling of the fire became the only sound in the room.

The day passed by pretty quietly. The library was closed, so Harry and Hermione stayed in the Common Room and discussed Buckbeak's case for a while. They talked about random things throughout the day, and they could hardly separate themselves from each other. Ron didn't bother them the rest of the day; in fact, they barely saw him at all. After dinner, Harry and Hermione took a moonlight stroll around the lake.

They got back to Gryffindor Tower just before curfew. After a while, the last few Gryffindors drifted off to bed, leaving Harry and Hermione alone. Though they talked for a while, the late hour and the crackling fire soon lulled the two teens into a deep sleep.

/

A few hours later, Harry awoke with a grungy hand clamped over his mouth. He felt Hermione struggling next to him on the couch, and he instinctively reached for his wand. "I'm afraid you won't find what you're looking for," said a voice gravelly from disuse. Harry looked up and saw the filthy face of Sirius Black staring back at him. Harry spied his and Hermione's wands in Black's pockets. He looked to Hermione to see if she was okay, and she looked back at him with fear in her eyes.

"Now if I had come to hurt you, I already would have," Black reasoned. Harry felt Hermione calm down next to him, and he also stopped struggling. He settled for glaring at Black, which caused his face to spasm in pain. Such an emotion surprised Harry momentarily. "I'm going to move my hands in a moment. Calling for help won't do either of you any good. All of the other students have been put under sleeping charms, and I've put this room under a privacy charm. I have your wands, so fighting won't do any good either," he explained slowly and carefully. Harry and Hermione looked at each other and realized there wasn't anything they could do.

Black removed his hands, and the teens stayed silent. He stood with his back to the fireplace, throwing his face into shadow. Harry positioned himself to keep Hermione as far from Black as possible. "What do you want? Here to finish your master's job?" he spat at Black. Again, he recoiled as if in pain.

"How can you believe that? James was like a brother to me," Black said softly. His voice betrayed pain as well.

Harry over mulled over that for a few seconds. "Then how could you turn him and my mother in if you loved them so much?" he demanded savagely.

"I didn't! Peter Pettigrew did!" Black yelled. "I've always hated Voldemort, but Peter joined him! That rat betrayed his best friend, and I started to hunt for him once I found out!" he growled in a fit of true rage.

Harry barely registered Black's words. "That's a very convenient story considering you killed Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles in cold blood," he snarled. Hermione held him back with a steady hand on his arm.

Black came closer, and Harry rose to face him from across the table. Harry was about as tall as the full-grown mass murderer. "Peter did that. He's still alive, and he's here!"

"A street full of people saw you kill him. All they found was a finger! How do you explain that?" Harry countered. Hermione was being so quiet that Harry almost forgot she was there.

Black shook his head firmly. "Pettigrew staged that. His wand cast the spell that killed those people. Then he cut off his finger before scurrying into the sewers. He's an unregistered animagus, and he's why I'm here. I want to commit the crime I was imprisoned for," he declared.

"How come we haven't noticed? The only new pet in our tower is Crookshanks!" Harry couldn't think of anything Crookshanks had done to show that he was anything but a cat.

Black laughed bitterly. "I never said 'new'. I believe your friend Ron calls him Scabbers."

Harry scoffed at the idea. "Scabbers? That's impossible!"

"Is it?" Black challenged. "He's been with their family for twelve years. Normal rats only live three or four years. Seems suspicious, doesn't it?" Black pointed out. Hermione couldn't dispute his claim.

Despite his best efforts, Harry could feel that he was starting to believe Black's story. "How do you know it's him?"

Black pulled out a tattered page from _The Daily Prophet_. "The picture in the paper," he said and showed them the picture of Ron's family from when they won all of that money. Scabbers was sitting on Ron's shoulder. "I've seen Peter transform hundreds of times, and the rat in the picture is missing a toe. I'm positive it's him."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Harry questioned in a low voice.

"Check his arms," Hermione piped up. Harry was a little startled to hear her voice behind him.

Harry gave Hermione a bewildered look. "For what?"

Hermione stood up at Harry's side. "Check his arms for the Dark Mark. It's a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth," she explained. "It's been twelve years, but some trace of it should still be there."

Black already had his sleeves rolled up. "Come on and look," he invited.

Harry examined Black's arms quickly. Hermione even tried to see any sign of a black skull or snake. "He's telling the truth," Harry announced with a small amount of wonder. "So you've been looking for Scabbers this whole time?"

"Yes. He gave your parents to Voldemort and set me up for it. I want him dead," Black declared.

Secretly, Harry couldn't blame him. He was feeling all of his animosity towards Black redirect itself towards Pettigrew. "No. My parents wouldn't have wanted that. Besides, he's more use to us alive. Alive and we can prove your innocence," Harry reasoned.

Black finally sat down in the armchair next to the fireplace, and Harry and Hermione followed suit by sitting on the couch. "I never thought of that, but you're right. All we need is a plan. But first, I would like to know who this lovely young lady is. She must be pretty special," he admitted.

Hermione blushed, and Harry introduced her, "This is my girlfriend, Hermione Granger."

"Well, it's very nice to finally meet the both of you. Here are your wands," he said as he returned each of the wands to its rightful owner. "I apologize, but I had to make sure neither of you would get out of hand."

"We understand, Mr. Black," Hermione assured him.

He shook his head. "I want none of that. Please call me Sirius," he offered kindly.

"Okay, Sirius, where do you want us to start?" Harry asked.

Sirius sighed and drew his hands together. "Well, you need to get Pettigrew up to Dumbledore. He is the head of the Wizengamot, and he never believed I had betrayed James and Lily. He would be the most likely to believe you two," Sirius began.

"I think so, too," Hermione conceded. "All we have to do is grab him in the morning and take him up to Dumbledore's office. Should we tell him the whole story?" she wondered and looked to Sirius.

Sirius considered it for a few moments. "I don't see any way around it. Nothing besides the absolute truth would be even remotely believable. Don't worry. Dumbledore's a trusting guy," he assured the teens.

"Yeah, he is, and he trusts us. I don't think we'll have any problems with him," Harry added to reassure Hermione as well.

"Okay, so we've got that covered." Sirius relaxed back into the chair. "Now there's something else I'd like to talk to you about, Harry," he said warmly.

Harry perked up out of curiosity. "What is it, Sirius?"

Sirius seemed at a loss on how to start the conversation. Finally, he started with, "Well, I don't know if you know that I'm your godfather…"

"Yes, I do. We overheard some teachers talking about it once," Harry interjected.

His godfather smiled. "Good. You should know that your parents intended for you to live with me if they died. Not those horrid Dursleys," he informed Harry.

"Are you asking me to come live with you?" Harry stared at Sirius with his mouth hanging open.

"Only if you want to." Sirius left his invitation open, but Harry could see the excitement in his eyes.

Harry's mind was reeling, and he wasn't sure what he wanted. "Do you even have a place for us to stay?"

"Of course," Sirius laughed. "I own the house I grew up in. We'll probably have to fix it up a bit, but it should be fine besides that. So what do you say?" He looked at Harry to gauge his reaction.

Harry paused to think it over. On one hand, only minutes before, Sirius had been his parents' murderer. Now, he was Harry's godfather and the only real tie he had left to his parents. Finally, he made up his mind. "I'd like that," Harry said confidently.

"What about your aunt and uncle? Won't they have something to say?" Sirius pointed out.

Harry dismissed that with a cynical laugh. "They will say good-bye. I hate living there, and they will be happy to see me go," Harry assured him. "When would I be able to move in?"

Sirius brightened visibly. "At the end of the school year if everything is revolved by them." Harry and Hermione knew perfectly well what he was referring to. "I'd best be going anyway. Morning will be here soon." He rose, and they followed.

"How shall we contact you?" Hermione inquired before he could leave.

He shook both their hands and said, "I'm staying in Hogsmeade. Owl me, but don't call me Sirius. Address all your letters to Padfoot so if your owl is intercepted no one will know you're talking to me. Let me borrow your wand, Harry, and I'll remove the privacy charm." Sirius took Harry's wand and quickly undid the spell. "Your friends will wake up in the morning. Bye, you two. Don't underestimate Pettigrew," Sirius advised.

"We won't," Harry and Hermione reassured him. "Bye, Sirius," they said together. He took off into the shadows and was gone. Harry fell back on the couch, and Hermione sat down to face him. She took both of his hands in hers. "Are you okay, Harry?" she asked with concern.

Harry released the breath he had been holding. "I think I am. It's just a lot to take in," he answered truthfully. "I don't know why, but I believe him."

Hermione nodded with sympathy and agreement. "So much of what he said makes sense," she added. "Is it strange to think that you will be living with him once this is all done?"

"Maybe I rushed into that decision, but the Dursleys are so horrid that even living with a convicted murder is preferable," Harry said with a smirk. She giggled and settled back in the couch again. "You'll come and visit, right?"

Fatigue was starting to set in, and she smiled sleepily. "Of course. I'll even help you guys clean up your place," Hermione promised.

"Good. Now you need some sleep. We have an innocent man to save in the morning." Harry took Hermione by the hand and led her to the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories. "Good night, 'Mione." He watched her disappear up the shadowy staircase. He sighed and went to his bed and dreamt of a certain brunette.

/

Harry awoke the next morning to the shouts of an angry redhead. He saw Ron run out of the dormitory, trailing his sheet behind him. Harry scrambled behind him. "Hermione! Wake up!" he bellowed from the bottom of the girls' staircase.

"What's wrong, Ron?" Harry asked, but Ron ignored him.

A couple minutes passed, and Hermione finally came down the stairs. "What is it, Ron?" she mumbled through a yawn.

"Look at what Crookshanks did!" he exclaimed as he held up his bed sheet. It was splattered with blood. "Crookshanks ate Scabbers! This is his blood!"

Harry and Hermione's faces had identical expressions of shock. "Are you sure?" Hermione asked quickly. "Maybe he's hiding under your bed or something."

"I looked everywhere. Your cat killed him!" Ron accused. His face and ears grew redder with each passing second. Harry began to protest, but Ron cut him off. "Stop taking Hermione's side!" He ran off, and Harry and Hermione forgot all about him.

"We need to tell Sirius right now," Hermione declared. Harry nodded and quickly wrote a note on a spare piece of parchment while Hermione ran and got dressed. They bundled up against the cold and hurried to the owlery. Harry couldn't think straight except when he wished they had just tried to grab him the night before. They attached the scroll to Hedwig's leg, and she sped off and disappeared into the snowy whiteness.

"What do we do now?" Harry wondered aloud.

"I guess we wait for Sirius's reply," Hermione said with a calmness Harry could only admire. Silently, the couple walked down to the Great Hall for a breakfast they had no appetite for. Their untouched plates sat in front of them, and neither spoke until Hedwig settled down and caused a cold puddle to form on the table.

Hermione quickly removed the damp scroll tied to Hedwig's leg while Harry fed her a piece of bacon and scratched her head. "Thanks, girl."

"He wants us to search the school for Scabbers," Hermione whispered incredulously. "This school is huge! I wouldn't even know where to begin looking!"

Harry thought for a moment. "What about the Marauders' Map? It shows everyone in the school, so if he's in Hogwarts, he'll show up too."

"Brilliant!" exclaimed Hermione. "Is it up in your dormitory?" He nodded, and they hurried back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry opened his trunk and found the map hidden carefully under a couple layers of debris.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry intoned. Lines spread across the paper like a quick-acting spider with shiny black silk webbing. Buildings took shape, and soon the teens were confronted with a two-dimensional model of Hogwarts. Little labeled dots were grouped in a few locations. Finding Pettigrew would be much easier because of Hogwarts's diminished population.

Their eyes raked over every inch of the castle and came up empty. "I don't see him anywhere!" Harry threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Wait," Hermione said as she continued to study the map. "I saw one dot disappear through a passageway under the Whomping Willow, but I couldn't read the name." She looked back up at Harry. "It has to be Pettigrew, but I don't know how he got past the Whomping Willow. Even as a rat, that had to be difficult."

Harry thought back to the year before when he and Ron had a bout with the strong-armed tree. He didn't think anything or anyone could get past that tree. He shuddered at the remembered sound of crunching metal. "We should send Sirius a message and ask him if he knows anything. We are definitely going to need his help to find Pettigrew anyway," Harry suggested.

Hermione agreed, and Harry quickly penned him a short note. This second trip to the owlery was much shorter, because the sky was growing darker, and the temperature was dropping even lower. The teens huddled close together as they walked the cold passageways back to the Tower. "Why would someone build a secret passageway under the Whomping Willow?" Harry asked through chattering teeth.

"Maybe it was the other way around. Someone must have planted the Whomping Willow over the passageway to hide something," Hermione countered through her own clacking teeth.

They stopped in a corner near a torch on the wall while Harry pulled out the map. He traced the passageway to the edge of the map where it disappeared into Hogsmeade. "I'm not sure where this leads. It goes off into Hogsmeade."

Hermione studied it carefully. Finally, she said, "This passage seems to go in the direction of the Shrieking Shack. Why would Pettigrew want to go there?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure. Maybe Sirius will give us some answers," he said as he folded the crinkly parchment and stowed it inside his cloak.

"Ah, Harry and Hermione," came a voice from behind, startling them. They saw the pale, pleasant face of Professor Lupin. "You two really should go back to your dormitories. It's almost curfew," he reminded them with a smile.

"Of course, Professor. We were headed there now," Hermione assured him. Harry nodded extremely glad to run into Lupin rather than Snape. He could imagine how many points Snape would dock Gryffindor because of his and Hermione's wet shoes.

Lupin's grin became toothy. "I thought as much. I expect to see the both of you in my office first thing after the holidays. Good night."

They waved as he ambled off and hurried back to the Tower. The Common Room was empty, and a suddenly drained Harry dropped an anxious Hermione off at the staircase to the girls' dormitory. He trudged up his own staircase and slipped quietly into the room he shared with Seamus, Neville, Dean, and Ron. It seemed quieter than normal with the sounds of only three boys breathing and snoring. Once Harry had laid his heavy head against his pillows, he noticed with bleary eyes that Ron's bed was empty save for a glowing pair of animal eyes…

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter has taken so long. It's been mostly written for months, but I didn't ever have the time to finish.


	6. Who's the Thief?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the associated universe do not belong to me, but two shots of tequila could change that.

Despite having such worrying problems, Harry slept soundly through the night. He awoke to gray shafts of light filtering through the cross-sections of the window. It was early still, and none of the other boys were awake. Only once he had turned over did Harry realize that the curtains on Ron's bed were open as they were the night before. The quilt was straight and uncreased. The bed looked as though it had been empty all night. Images of eyes permeated the last dregs of sleep but were all but forgotten as Harry finally stirred from bed.

The room was eerily quiet, undisturbed by even snowing. It felt stuffy; the air was heavy as Harry approached Ron's bed. Next to a pile of ginger hairs laid a torn piece of parchment.

Harry's fears were confirmed when he saw the ink paw print at the bottom as a signature. It said, "I have your friend. Come to the Shrieking Shack. No adults and I will give your friend back." The handwriting was shaky like a hand out of practice. The torn parchment became like the filthy rag Dobby wore and the baggy clothes the Dursleys gave him to wear. Harry wanted to burn all of it, but he knew he had to show Hermione. She would know what to do. She always knew what to do.

Harry dressed as quietly as he could despite all his fumbling around. It took three tries for him to realize he was trying to put his head in one of the armholes of his shirt. He crept out of the dormitory down to the Common Room. Luckily, Hermione was dozing in the armchair by the dying fire. She looked haggard but strangely serene. Suddenly, Harry forgot why he had come downstairs. All he knew was he was loath to wake this beautiful creature. The grubby paper in his hand eventually reminded him of his purpose.

"Mione?" Harry said softly as he gently touched her shoulder. She didn't wake up or stir at all. Her breathing slowed a hitch, and she began to snore softly. "Hermione? Wake up, please," he repeated a little louder.

Hermione opened a drowsy eye. "Harry?" she yawned. "I'm sorry. I hardly slept at all last night," she explained as she stretched to shake off the last bits of sleep. "Why are you up so early?" Hermione asked after glancing at the clock on the mantle.

Silently, Harry handed her the note. Hermione, a lightning-fast reader, took several moments to carefully read and process the ransom note. Her clam demeanor shattered as sobs racked her body. Tears spilled from her eyes, and Harry just held her close while she cried herself out. The tower was silent save for Hermione's sorrowful crying. Soon enough, her sobs subsided into deathly silence. Harry hated to see Hermione that way, but he was spent emotionally. Neither teen said anything for a long time. Both stared off into the ever-lightening distance and thought of nothing. Their minds and hearts were hollow as though a beast had ripped out everything that made them human.

The saltwater soaking Harry's sleeve turned cold, but neither Harry nor Hermione could feel it physically. The sun rose high above the horizon before either teen moved. Only the sounds of other students stirring could reawaken the catatonic witch and wizard. The clock told them that time had not frozen but had passed pretty quickly. Hushed as mourners, Harry and Hermione left Gryffindor Tower in search of Professor Dumbledore. He was the only one who could help though everything felt hopeless.

Walking through the castle corridors seemed to rouse Harry from his blank state of mind. Panic tried to settle in briefly, but Harry pushed his anxieties aside. He was determined to get his best friend back whether Dumbledore helped or not. Feeling more self-assured, Harry took Hermione's hand and began walking the halls with determination. Harry's warm touch seemed to reinvigorate Hermione who began to match his stride instead of shuffling along like a mindless zombie.

Luckily, Harry and Hermione caught up with Dumbledore right outside the statue to his office. Dumbledore asked no questions but wordlessly invited them up the stairs to his large, circular office. Without a sound, Harry and Hermione sat down opposite from the aging headmaster. He merely extended a hand and accepted the tattered parchment. He scanned it and set it down on his desk. "I presume one of you found this note at some point this morning?" Dumbledore inquired, breaking the silence that hung heavily in the air.

Harry nodded. "I found it," his voice cracked as he spoke. He cleared his throat. "I found it on his pillow this morning."

"Well, we will not be able to do anything until tonight," Dumbledore announced gravely. Stopping Harry's objection with a wave of his hand, Dumbledore explained his reason. "We do not need to attract any unwanted attention. No one should know about any of this. Not that most would believe the story in the first place."

Harry could concede that point. "So when are we going to try and save Ron then?" he asked with a hint of impatience in his voice. His best friend being in jeopardy made him just a little anxious. His anxiety was unavoidable and understandable.

"Come down to the Great Hall at curfew. Hide yourselves under your invisibility cloak and stay under it until we get past the Whomping Willow. I have my own ways of disguising myself, so you need not worry about that," Dumbledore advised Harry and Hermione.

Dumbledore gave the teens his best cheering smile before they left his office to while away the afternoon. The hours drug on at the pace of the world's slowest mollusk. The holidays were winding down, so more students were arriving every day, and the castle was beginning to fill up again. No place in the castle was truly quiet and peaceful, and neither Harry nor Hermione could stay still for very long anyway. They kept roaming the corridors with no concept of where they were going or why. Finally, the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts became overwhelming, and they just needed to escape.

Harry and Hermione left the Great Hall through the front doors and were jolted by the icy crispness of the air outside. They roamed the grounds until they found a spot completely quiet and void of all disturbances. They found themselves not far from the Forbidden Forest, so they settled down on some stumps on the outskirts. The usually foreboding and ominous forest barely registered in Harry or Hermione's minds. Bigger problems were occupying their mental processes to the exclusion of all else.

Suddenly, everything became unbearable, and Harry felt like his head would explode into a million pieces of shrapnel. "Why does it feel like this stuff is never-ending? That I will never escape from it?" His head was in his hands, and he felt his jaw clench and unclench and clench again. Every muscle in his body had tensed up. The air around him was volatile.

Hermione put a warm, mittened hand on his shoulder, and immediately, the pressure building up in Harry's body released. Instead of feeling empty like earlier, he felt calm and even a little hopeful. "Harry, I wish these things didn't happen to you or anyone. Bad things do happen though, and you have been given your fair share," Hermione conceded in a gentle tone. "Some day, Voldemort will be gone, and life will go back to normal. That's all you have to remember."

Her brown eyes found his green ones and conveyed a sense of tranquility. Harry felt like he could breathe for the first time since leaving Dumbledore's office. "Thanks, Hermione," he murmured. "I just hate that Ron's in trouble because of me. Everyone close to me just suffers, because they're friends with me. Why are you with me? You could get hurt," Harry pointed out.

Hermione laughed a little and rubbed his shoulder. "Harry, you couldn't survive without me," she said in a joking manner.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at this statement. "You make a good point. We never would have made it to the Chamber without your help, and you got me past those enchanted flames to get to the Stone back in first year."

She giggled a little more. "Very true. It would be very irresponsible for me to leave you on your own," Hermione admitted with a smile. Harry couldn't help but give this amazing girl a kiss. Laughing had helped lighten the mood though Ron was never far from either teen's mind. Anyone who could have seen them would have thought they were two teenagers crazy about each other. Hermione conjured one of her little blue flames, and it kept them warm as they sat outside during the frosty January afternoon.

The two talked some more and stayed silent for periods of time. They observed the other students frolicking on the ground. Some were having a snowball fight, and others were walking around the Great Lake. Their lives seemed wonderfully uncomplicated, and Harry and Hermione both secretly yearned for such carefree existences. As darkness began filling the sky, Harry and Hermione packed up and headed back inside to face the impending events. The darkness fell like a curtain on the final act of a show, and the ending was yet to come.

Harry and Hermione slipped nonchalantly into the horde of students headed for their Common Rooms. Hermione waited in a slightly empty corner of Gryffindor's Common Room while Harry ran up to his dormitory to grab his Invisibility Cloak. He slipped it on and carefully worked his way over to where Hermione was standing. He tapped the inside of her wrist, and they headed over to the portrait hole. Everyone else seemed preoccupied by something else, so Hermione casually disappeared under the cloak as well. As they walked up to meet Dumbledore, neither teen could quash their twin feelings of mounting dread.

Their hands were clasped firmly together under the cloak. They walked softly down the Grand Staircase and saw Dumbledore standing at the doors, talking to Snape of all people. Even though they were under the Invisibility Cloak, Harry and Hermione hid themselves behind a suit of armor. Snape made them feel uneasy whether he could see them or not. The two adults were speaking too low for either Harry or Hermione to hear them, but their hushed conversation was soon over, and Snape stalked off in his usual angry way.

Dumbledore never called out or indicated that he knew Harry and Hermione were there. He merely walked out the doors and left them ajar long enough for the teens to slip out into the frosty night. They heard the locks tumbled into place with loud creaks that pierced the air. Again, Dumbledore did not say a word. He merely began walking in the direction of the Whomping Willow. Harry wondered how Dumbledore was disguising himself, because he looked no different. Except for this shimmer Harry could barely discern in the moonlight silhouetting the headmaster.

Each step brought the trio closer to Pettigrew and Ron, but the tree felt miles away. Harry's heart was pounding in his ears and arriving at the tree did nothing to help that. "I warn the both of you. You must stay hidden until I tell you otherwise, and you both must stay close to me. And lastly, do not worry. We shall soon have your friend safe and sound," Dumbledore assured them, speaking the first words they heard from him all night.

He did not wait for an answer but began levitating a dead branch. Dumbledore used this branch to hit a knot of the trunk. Suddenly, the normally mobile and violent tree froze as though turned to stone by Medusa's gaze. Harry and Hermione looked with surprised expressions at each other. Wordlessly, they followed Dumbledore down a hollow under the Whomping Willow. Someone had come through the tunnel recently; the cobwebs and dirt were disturbed.

They worked their way carefully and efficiently through the dirt tunnel. In no time at all, the three of them came upon a wooden ladder leading up to a trapdoor. The ladder hardly looked stable enough for a full-grown wizard, but Dumbledore climbed it quickly and quietly with the agility of a much younger man. The cloak wasn't really long enough, but Harry and Hermione climbed the ladder, one right after the other. Luckily, the shack was just as dark as the tunnel, so no one would have seen their disembodied legs anyway.

Dumbledore staid them with an outstretched hand, so he could perform a charm on the floor and a set of stairs leading to the second floor. The floor looked unstable in places, and there was a fine layer of dust covering everything, including furniture broken into pieces that appeared to bear teeth marks. The Shrieking Shack was definitely creepy, but it didn't seem to be haunted. Dumbledore led the way up the rickety stairs that didn't creak because of whatever spell the headmaster had done.

Harry and Hermione were a few paces behind Dumbledore when he came upon a battered door. There seemed to be a light on in the room, and Harry could hear someone's small, scurrying steps coming from behind the door. "Step back," Dumbledore whispered as the teen couple stepped behind him. They moved back, closer to the rail, and Harry positioned himself in front of Hermione.

Dumbledore mumbled a spell powerful enough to blast the door apart and reveal a frightened Wormtail unleash a fine powder over the intruders. Harry and Hermione felt the floor spin out from under them and all was blackness….

/

The darkness lightened, and grayness took the place of the all-encompassing blackness. Out of the gray formed a single, coherent thought: "where am I and where is Hermione?" He tried to fight against the fog, but he was too fatigued. Everything darkened and all was nothing again.

/

After what felt like an eternity, Harry felt his head come up above the surface again. The blackness had been airless, but the gray had pockets of air for Harry to breathe in. Though his body felt weightless, he could feel an invisible anchor tying him to an imaginary world. He was vaguely aware of something else floating in the grayness, but he didn't have long to wander before the fog overtook him again.

/

This time, a beam of light shot through the darkness, and the dense fog began to dissipate. Slowly, at first, but rapidly after, Harry could feel air pour into his lungs, and his body felt like it had been weighted down with rocks. Soon, the fog disappeared enough to uncover the twitching form of what appeared to be a severely deformed child with serpentine features and lidless, red eyes. Even that gnarled figure grew still and faded with the darkness.

Finally, all was light, and Harry could feel the linen sheets caressing his skin. The support of the mattress underneath his body assured Harry that he was still alive and that his body was corporeal again. He became aware of a pressure on his wrist and the steady tapping of someone's feet next to his bed. Harry tried to open his eyes, but he was too weak. He knew he had been unconscious for some time, but he did not feel rested. Quite the opposite, in fact. The simple struggle to just open his eyes was too much. A lighter mist overtook his mind, a mist that was peaceful and rejuvenating.

/

Harry truly awoke early the next morning. His eyes opened and found the familiar sight of the Hospital Wing ceiling. He groaned a little as he tried to turn his head to the side. The least little movements caused sharp pains to explode behind his eyes. Harry closed his eyes again and began to move his muscles slowly and carefully, starting with his toes and working his way up his legs. Eventually, Harry was able to move his neck without any dizziness, so he opened his eyes again and pushed away any thoughts of fatigue or sleep. He turned his head to his right and saw Hermione, comatose, in the bed next to his.

He wanted to reach out and touch her, try to wake her up, but his body still wasn't fully cooperating. Harry licked his dry lips and noticed a water pitcher on the table next to his bed. As he reached for the pitcher, Madam Pomfrey walked out of her office with her head turned towards the floor. He cleared his throat to ask her the many questions on his mind, and this caught her attention.

"Harry!" she exclaimed and half ran to his bed. The use of his first name struck him as odd, but he didn't have time to think much about it. "You're finally awake!" Madam Pomfrey began checking his pulse and whatever other vitals she seemed to be checking off a mental list. While she was doing this, Harry tried repeatedly to speak, but his throat wouldn't make any noise. Finally, Madam Pomfrey seemed satisfied, and she pulled a chair up so she could sit by his bed. "Tell me how you are feeling."

Again, Harry tried to speak, but his throat felt completely desiccated. The matronly nurse understood and summoned a bottle from her desk in the office. She mixed it with some water in a goblet and handed it to an eager Harry. He downed it in two gulps and managed to bypass most of the bitter taste of the potion. Almost instantly, Harry's throat felt moisturized, and he felt a little more rejuvenated on the whole. "Thank you," he said finally, and Madam Pomfrey looked very excited. "What happened to us?" Harry asked as he gestured to Hermione and himself.

Her mouth pressed into a line, and her face took on this sad expression. "You were infected by a parasite that drains magical cores," announced a voice from the other end of the wing. Harry and Madam Pomfrey turned to see Dumbledore standing at the door as though he had Apparated there quietly.

Dumbledore's presence failed to shock Harry, though it did make him more eager to get answers. "Does that mean our magic is gone?" Harry forced through the lump in his throat. When Dumbledore's expression did not alter from the pleasant smile he had, Harry's heart became lighter. Madam Pomfrey looked to the headmaster, and he gave her a slight nod. She nodded in turn and patted Harry's leg as she got up and left the room.

Dumbledore then occupied the now vacant chair at the foot of Harry's bed. "Your magical core is fine. In fact, it is probably stronger than it was before," Dumbledore informed him calmly.

"But why?" Harry asked simply. A parasite like the one he had couldn't be a small thing. Something that stole the very thing that made him a wizard couldn't be good, but Dumbledore was treating it very lightly. This picture didn't quite add up.

"When you faced Voldemort as an infant, Harry," Dumbledore paused as if considering his next words carefully, "he left a piece of himself in you. A piece of his soul attached to yours."

"So I've had a piece of Voldemort inside of me for all these years?" Harry asked bleakly. The idea that some part, any part, of Voldemort had lived in his body completely repulsed Harry. Suddenly, he felt unclean knowing his body could house such evil.

Dumbledore nodded with the same calm demeanor. "I don't believe he intended to have that happen when he came to your parents' house that night, but I will leave the rest of that explanation for later." He rose from his chair as if to depart, "As for now, you need to rest before Madam Pomfrey comes for my head."

With a quick stride, Dumbledore exited the Hospital Wing, and the matronly nurse re-entered. "You should rest, Harry. Your body has been through a great deal and needs time to recuperate," she insisted as Dumbledore had predicted.

Madam Pomfrey pulled another potion vial from her pocket. "Wait, how long have we been here?" Harry inquired as she handed him a goblet containing the potion.

Her face was a little sullen as she replied, "A little over a week. You recovered rather quickly for a parasite this aggressive." The nurse's back was turned towards Hermione, but Harry could feel her thoughts moving in that direction.

Harry touched Madam Pomfrey's trembling hand. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked her earnestly as he stared into her face.

Her eyes couldn't quite meet his, and his heart sunk deeper in his chest. He collapsed weakly into his pillows and accepted the goblet of what he supposed was a sleeping draught. Harry swallowed the liquid without tasting it and felt its effects almost immediately. As he felt the familiar darkness creeping over him, Harry thought he heard Madam Pomfrey whisper under her breath. It sounded like: "I hope so."

/

Over the next week, Harry did something he never thought he would: homework. Part of him hoped this would shock her into waking up, but that hope was in vain. The only thing that betrayed any sign of life was Hermione's steady breathing. Sometimes he watched her chest rise and fall just to be assured that she was still alive. Her lifeless and motionless state reminded him too much of the year before, and it was painful.

Ron and other classmates visited a few times. They brought him homework and tried to keep the mood light. Oliver Wood stopped by to find out if Harry would be back before the next match. The visits cheered Harry a little, but no one even mentioned the elephant in the room. Everyone tried to avoid looking in Hermione's direction, but occasionally, his or her eyes would wander. Harry could see the sadness though his friends tried to hide it.

Even Dumbledore dropped in a couple times to elaborate on the parasite and its effects. "It can enter the body through a number of means, and it would seem that you and Miss Granger inhaled particles of it back at the Shrieking Shack. I went back after rescuing Mr. Weasley and examined the house. Somehow, Peter Pettigrew got hold of the parasite in powdered form. I'm sorry for acting hastily and putting you and Hermione at risk," Dumbledore apologized sincerely.

"Why weren't you affected?" Harry asked curiously. "You were standing with us and should have gotten the worst part of the dust."

"During my travels as an adolescent, I encountered this parasite, and I found a relatively unknown local cure. The problem is that it takes some time to work," Dumbledore admitted pointedly. Harry liked that he never ignored Hermione's presence in the room. "She will wake soon enough."

The headmaster's certainty elevated Harry's hopes some, but looking at Hermione's still body made it hard to totally believe. "If this parasite is so rare, then where did you discover it before?" Harry asked curiously. Harry was certain he had never heard of any magical parasite with these kinds of effects, and Dumbledore had mentioned it was rare.

"Albania. Coincidentally the last place Voldemort was rumored to be hiding. I believe Peter Pettigrew is serving an agenda other than his own," he surmised.

The mention of the Dark Lord soured Harry's mood even more. "So you think Voldemort was behind all of this?"

Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles on his crooked nose. "I think Voldemort has acquired a new servant. However, his plan seems to have backfired in a way he never could have foreseen. He intended to weaken you when he really made your powers stronger," the headmaster explained cryptically.

His explanation only confused Harry. How could he be stronger? In fact, he felt no different than before. "How can I be stronger? Is it because the parasite fed on the piece of his soul inside me? Why would he try to infect me with something that could destroy it? Didn't he know about that piece of his soul?" Harry asked in a rapid-fire way that reminded him instantly of Hermione.

Dumbledore chuckled and smiled mischievously. "I suppose it is time for me to explain to you what a Horcrux is," he announced as he leaned forward in his chair.

This word was foreign to Harry, and he didn't think even Hermione knew what it meant. "What exactly is a Horcrux?"

"A Horcrux comes from a branch of magic so dark and forbidden that most wizards are not even aware of its existence. It was forgotten, but Voldemort must have tracked the knowledge down. Horcruxes are objects with a piece of soul embedded in them. Splintering one's soul into multiple pieces takes the most evil act, the murder of another person, to make the soul unstable. I've never known of a person making more than one, but Voldemort seems to have made several. As long as these objects exist, Voldemort cannot die," Dumbledore explained seriously. No twinkle lit his eyes, and in fact, even he looked troubled.

Everything Dumbledore described seemed unimaginable. "So I was a Horcrux?" The headmaster didn't even have to nod for Harry to realize the answer. "Are Horcruxes considered evil objects?"

"They are dark objects, but the objects themselves are not evil. They are merely vessels for evil, intangible things, so the fact you formerly were a Horcrux does not make you evil, Harry," Dumbledore reassured the disturbed teenager. Harry felt better but only marginally. "Horcruxes are extremely hard to destroy, because the objects must be beyond magical repair in order for the Horcrux to be destroyed."

"What can do that? I thought magic could fix just about everything," Harry wondered perhaps a little naively.

That provoked a smile from Dumbledore. "Alas, Harry, if that were only true," he proclaimed. "Death is irreversible as is damage to a magical core. Those are two ways to destroy a living Horcrux. Objects have to be destroyed by something such as Fiendfyre or Basilisk venom." He put special emphasis on that last method, and Harry's brain made a connection.

"Hold on," Harry muttered. "Riddle's diary must have been a Horcrux!" Dumbledore nodded in the affirmative and waited for Harry to process this fact further. "He created it when he was sixteen… he killed someone when he was only sixteen," Harry realized with horror. Having met the sixteen-year-old Riddle, Harry didn't really doubt the possibility, but it still horrified him.

"Unfortunately, yes. I believe Moaning Myrtle's death facilitated the creation of that first Horcrux. Since then, two more have been destroyed. You and Marvolo Gaunt's ring." Dumbledore saw the question forming behind Harry's eyes and answered him before he could ask, "Marvolo Gaunt was Tom Riddle's grandfather and a descendent of Salazar Slytherin. I tracked it down recently and destroyed it with Gryffindor's Sword. Also a handy tool for destroying Horcruxes."

Harry leaned against his pillows and tried to process the idea of a Horcrux and everything that accompanied this revelation. Three pieces of Voldemort's soul had been destroyed. These things were the only things keeping Voldemort from an eternity in Hell. He was the reason Hermione, his best friend and girlfriend, was lying on the bed next to his. The one responsible behind Ron's, his best mate's, kidnapping. Harry would personally track down every single one of Voldemort's Horcruxes just to make sure that evil creature would actually die. "Do you know how many more there are?" Harry asked quietly.

"I have reason to believe that there are at least three more with the possibility of a fourth. I would like to train you, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger, and I would like your help to find each of the remaining Horcruxes," Dumbledore offered. "All of this would have to be done in the utmost secrecy, but I'm sure we can fit it in around your regular schooling."

Harry nodded fervently in agreement. "I'm definitely willing, but we'll have to ask Ron and Hermione."

"Of course. You and Miss Granger still need time to recuperate. I'll be back soon to check your progress," and with that, the headmaster was gone.

The room darkened around him, but Harry's mind felt more alive than ever. He pondered all that Dumbledore had told him and wondered what it could mean for the future. Perhaps they could defeat Voldemort in the next few years. Harry was sure of one thing: whatever happened, he could deal with it as long as his friends were beside him. Thinking of his two best friends made him look over to the one lying one bed over. He was shocked to discover her beautiful brown eyes staring back at him.

A/N: I apologize to all my readers who haven't received replies to their reviews or PMs over the past few months. Something was not allowing me to reply to them, which I always make sure I do promptly. Thanks for hanging in despite my sporadic updating. If you noticed, I am deviating quite a bit from canon, and I hope you will allow me the liberty. This is fanfiction after all!


	7. Gaining New Power and Knowledge

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. does not belong to me in any way, shape, or form though I would be insanely rich if they did!

"Mione?" Harry breathed as he stared into those pools of chocolate brown. It seemed like eons since he had last seen Hermione alive and beautiful. In a flash, Harry threw off his covers and jumped up to grab Hermione's hand and stare at her weak smile.

Like Harry a week earlier, she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Harry instantly understood and called out for Madam Pomfrey. She emerged from her office in a night cap and dressing gown with a bewildered expression on her face. She took in the sight of Harry's excited expression and Hermione's animated state before quickening her step. The nurse obviously anticipated Hermione's needs by putting out a vial with a familiar looking potion.

A goblet later and Hermione looked even better than before. "Thank you," she said in a completely normal speaking voice. She turned her head to smile warmly at Harry and winced as a pain shot through her head and temporarily clouded her vision. "What happened?" Hermione asked with her eyes closed.

Harry could only smile and say, "We were sick. I'll explain everything in the morning." His heart was near to bursting with happiness, and he could hardly contain his excitement. Things had looked so bleak earlier, but now, with Hermione awake, things seemed better.

Hermione smiled sleepily and promptly fell back to sleep without the aid of a sleeping draught. The fact that she started snoring softly proved that she was actually sleeping and not passing out into a comatose state again. Madam Pomfrey checked her vitals and seemed satisfied with the results. She bade Harry a good night before heading back to her own bed. Harry sat next to Hermione's bed, holding her hand, until he felt himself nodding off. He kissed her forehead lightly before crawling back into his own bed and falling into the first sound sleep he'd had in days.

/

Harry awoke the next day long before Hermione did. While he waited for her beautiful eyes to open again, he practiced some magical exercises Madam Pomfrey had given him to help strengthen his magical core. Power was the one thing Harry's magic did not lack. In fact, Harry felt more magic running through his veins than ever before. He accidently blasted apart several sets of hospital curtains before he started to get the hang of his new power.

Madam Pomfrey taught him a few exercises to help calm his mind and body, and those seemed to help. He could now levitate objects without accidently throwing them through windows. Harry only hoped they would help Hermione, because he never doubted for a moment that her magic would be anything other than great.

He had been in the middle of balancing chairs in midair when Hermione woke up and startled him. "Good morning," she said as the chairs came crashing to the floor. "Sorry." Harry blushed from embarrassment as he repaired the chairs and returned them to their proper places.

He sat in the chair next to Hermione's bed and took her hand. "How are you feeling" Harry asked with a huge grin spread across his face.

"Pretty good, but I will feel better once you explain everything," Hermione responded with a devilish smirk. Her behavior made Harry feel even better, because she seemed just the same as before Ron's kidnapping. "How long have we been here?"

"Two weeks," Harry answered with some hesitancy. Hermione's light mood disappeared almost instantly as she processed the ramifications of that statement.

Harry saw her try to swallow past a lump in her throat. "I was unconscious for two weeks?" Hermione asked with astonishment. "How long were you out?" she wondered after his firm nod.

"I woke up a week ago," he replied in a much more muted tone. "Do you remember anything from when you were passed out? Voices maybe?"

Hermione relaxed into her pillows with a thoughtful expression on her face. After a moment, she answered, "I do vaguely remember hearing voices once. I overheard someone talking about a parasite of some sort. I'm not sure who was talking though." She looked back to Harry, and her eyes demanded an explanation.

Harry could only comply, and he launched into an explanation that covered how they contracted the parasite and what it did. He also repeated all that Dumbledore revealed to him about horcruxes, including the part about him being one. Harry's recap of the past couple weeks was quite lengthy, and after a while, Hermione settled back and closed her eyes. She seemed to be asleep, and anyone watching the pair would have thought she had passed back out, but Harry could sense that Hermione was very much awake and listening attentively.

Finally, Harry ran out of things to tell Hermione, and he settled into a heavy silence. Hermione still sat with her eyes closed, and her body language was completely unreadable. Harry longed to ask her what was on her mind or even to see her eyes open again. Now, he wasn't so sure that she was still conscious. After what seemed like an agonizing eternity, Hermione sat up and looked at Harry. "Has your magic been affected?" she asked curtly.

This was not the response Harry expected. Slightly taken aback, Harry pulled out his wand and began levitating chairs again. "At first, it was hard to control my magic. It was like being eight years old but add in fireworks. I had to teach myself to concentrate, but my magic is still much more powerful than before." He finished speaking and neatly returned the chairs to their original locations.

"Do you think my magic is okay?"

Hermione's simple question completely baffled Harry. He had never even considered the possibility that Hermione's magical core could be damaged. Harry could only gape and open and close his mouth like a fish out of water. Harry watched as Hermione searched for and found her wand on the table next to her bed. She raised it as if to perform a spell when Madam Pomfrey came bustling into the Hospital Wing.

She took in the sight of Hermione holding up her wand and clucked her tongue. "I'm afraid you need more rest before you should attempt any magic, my dear," she said before taking Hermione's wand out of her hand. "You are still much too weak no matter how well you feel." Hermione silently gave in and allowed Madam Pomfrey to run any number of tests to check up on her health. After a quarter of an hour passed, the nurse seemed satisfied and left the teens in peace.

If it could be called peace anyway. Hermione buried himself in deep thought, and Harry had to suffer through another uncomfortable silence. He didn't want to interrupt her, but he could hardly stand how quiet she was being. Harry remembered how utterly and completely happy he had been when he saw her beautiful eyes open last night. That mood contrasted so much with the present atmosphere as to make the night before seem garish and unreal.

Now he was so caught up in his own thoughts, he didn't notice that Hermione was back on planet Earth and staring at Harry with a bemused expression. Her mind had calmed down so she was able to watch Harry as he had watched her earlier. Finally, she put her hand back on his and whispered, "Harry? Are you done yet?"

That question seemed to startle Harry as he saw that Hermione was just sitting there smiling at him sweetly. "What did you say?" he asked as a confused expression came over his face. He seemed so bewildered that Hermione couldn't help but giggle at him which only flustered him more. "Come on, Hermione. What did you say?"

"I was just wondering if you were done thinking," Hermione replied when she was done laughing at Harry's expense. "You were very engrossed in whatever was on your mind."

"Oh, I was just thinking about you," Harry said as he smiled back at Hermione. He leaned in to kiss her slightly chapped lips and instantly felt better. Feeling her warmth reassured him in a way nothing else could. The Hermione he knew and liked was not gone. "I missed you."

Hermione settled back, beaming from the feel of Harry's lips on hers. "Harry, I wasn't really gone. I was only asleep," she reminded him lightly.

Harry looked down at their clasped hands before answering, "I know, but you still weren't you. I like you much better when you are awake."

Hermione brightened at the comment ad blushed at the attention. They were wrapped up in their own little bubbled until Ron came bursting through the entrance to the Hospital Wing. His arms were laden with books that he dropped on Harry's bed when he saw Hermione sitting upright. "Hermione! You're awake!" he exclaimed as he rushed to her bedside.

Ron's energy was infectious, and Hermione couldn't help but grin as she greeted him in turn. "Why did you bring all these books with you?" she asked, her attention focused on the mound of books thrown haphazardly onto Harry's tangled sheets. "I wasn't aware you knew how to check books out of the library," she joked good-naturedly.

They laughed, and Ron didn't care that Hermione had just made fun of him. He was just glad both of his best friends were okay. "I had to ask Madam Pince for help, but Harry was still here and couldn't help me. I've been bringing him his homework, and he's been doing research for Buckbeak's trial."

Hermione's eyes grew wide, and she looked at Harry in surprise. "You've been keeping up with your homework?"

Her boyfriend grew really red and just kept looking at his hands. "I even did some of your assignments. I tried my hands at Ancient Runes, but I'm afraid you'll have to redo those pages. Those squiggles confused me more than your Arithmancy textbook," Harry admitted sheepishly.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at this new side of Harry. "Thank you, Harry," she said as she accepted the pages of homework from Ron. She glanced them over, and for the most part, they actually looked good. What he had written for Ancient Runes confused even her, but it was an easy enough assignment that wouldn't take her long to redo. "You guys did homework without me having to tell you to? How long was I really asleep?"

Ron stayed and visited for a while. He talked about what was going on in the classes they had together. Hermione even laughed at tales of some of Fred and George's pranks. They talked and talked until Madam Pomfrey came and shooed Ron out saying Hermione needed her rest. He promised to come back the next day and ran out to be on time for dinner.

Harry turned back to find Hermione staring at him warmly, her brown eyes glittering. "What?" he asked before she reached over to kiss him sweetly on his lips. "What was that for?"

"Did you know that you are quite possibly one of the most amazing people I've ever know?" she admitted glowingly.

"What did I do to deserve that comment?" Harry inquired as he rubbed her hand with his thumb.

She gestured to the piles of books and parchment. "You did your homework and most of mine. You even did most of the research for Buckbeak's trial. Those are things I probably would have done myself or had to force you to help me with."

Harry blushed and couldn't meet her eyes again. "I didn't know what else to do. Waiting a week for you to wake up felt a little like torture," he admitted without looking at her. "Maybe a small part of me hoped it would get you to wake up faster," Harry all but whispered.

Hermione's heart warmed to the point of bursting to see Harry in this state. She pushed his chin up gently to stare in those sad green eyes. "Well, I'm awake now, and I think I'm going to be okay. I might even try to do some magic later," she said reassuringly. Just those few sentences seemed to cheer Harry up measurably.

"I guess you are right," Harry acquiesced. "Maybe you should wait on the magic though. I don't want you to blow up this part of the castle or anything." He grinned at Hermione impishly. She pretended to glare but soon ended up laughing along.

Dumbledore interrupted their mirth by entering the Hospital Wing carrying a small stack of letters. "I hate to intrude, but I heard that Miss Granger had woken up. It's good to see you awake at last," he smiled down on the beaming teenaged girl. "I brought with e any mail either of you received over the past couple weeks," Dumbledore explained as he distributed the letters. Hermione had a couple from her parents, and Harry had a few grubby notes with nothing written on the outside.

"We, of course, notified your families that the two of you were in the Hospital Wing. We did not disclose the nature of your stay so as not to alarm your families too much," Dumbledore informed them as Hermione eagerly tore into her letters.

Harry could tell that none of the notes he received were from the Dursleys. They probably hadn't even opened the bloody letter. None of them wanted anything to do with Hogwarts or Harry. Turning his attention back to the pieces of parchment in his hands, he read them quickly. They were all from Sirius, and all of them expressed great concern at not hearing back from Harry. The first thing Harry planned to do once Dumbledore left was to write Sirius a long letter explaining everything important. He might leave out the part about the horcruxes until another time.

"I also came to tell you about what I've uncovered concerning that copy of Miss Bagshot's _History of Magic_." This declaration caught the attention of both teens automatically. "One of the properties of the room is to act as a hiding place for items a person does not want found. I believe Voldemort himself may have hidden that book and even other things," Dumbledore added with special emphasis. Both teens understood his meaning perfectly.

"What do you think it could be?" Hermione inquired in a low voice. She had learned that anyone could overhear anything at Hogwarts.

"When Voldemort was Tom Riddle, he viewed Hogwarts as his home. Anything related to the school or its founders was held high in his esteem. This leads me to believe that Voldemort may have made horcruxes out of objects specific to the founders. We can rule out an object belonging to Gryffindor, because the sword is the only known artifact left belonging to Godric Gryffindor."

Hermione furrowed her brow, and Harry could see her mentally searching all of her knowledge of Hogwarts and the four founders. "The only item I can think of is Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. According to myth, it was lost generations ago, but some people believe it's somewhere here at Hogwarts," she said after a brief pause. "Perhaps Voldemort found it, turned it into a horcrux, and hid it in a place no one would look for it?"

Dumbledore smiled down upon Hermione. "That was precisely what I had been thinking. Voldemort had the opportunity to hide it when he came for an interview some years after he left the school."

"Voldemort interviewed for a job at this school?" Harry asked with amazement. Such an idea was hard to imagine.

The expression on Dumbledore's face never changed. "He was interested in the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. This was before he became infamous as Lord Voldemort, of course. Ever since I declined to give him the job, we've had difficult time keeping that teaching post filled. Your class is on their third professor in this subject area," he pointed out.

Harry had wondered if Hogwarts often had to replace teachers, but it seemed as though the DADA position was the only one cursed. Thinking back to the horcruxes, Harry asked, "Do you have any idea what the other objects belonging to the founders might be?"

"My research leads me to believe there is still a cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff and a locket belonging to Salazar Slytherin. I am very close to tracking these artifacts down, though I have not located them yet."

"Perhaps we can help you as soon as we get out of here," Hermione offered and indicated the Hospital Wing. "Actually, I was wondering how soon that might be." Harry knew Hermione hated just sitting around idly when there was work to be done.

Dumbledore chuckled pleasantly. "Don't alarm yourself, Miss Granger. You should be able to leave in a few days' time. Harry, you will be able to leave in the morning. Miss Granger must stay longer so Madam Pomfrey can help her regain control over her magic." Harry noted that Hermione did not truly like this option, but she silently agreed because she saw the rationale behind it.

With that, Dumbledore took his leave to allow Harry and Hermione time to rest. Harry did have class in the morning after all. Hermione grumbled a little about having to stay, but she did avoid using her wand to perform some tiny bit of magic. While Harry finished up the homework due the next day and his letter to Sirius, Hermione read her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ to discern some more information on Ravenclaw's diadem. The hours slipped by, and Harry eventually slipped off into a dreamless sleep.

/

Harry left a chagrined Hermione in her bed in the Hospital Wing while he dragged himself to class. Ron was more than happy to have his best friend back as were most of his classmates. Only Ron knew the truth behind his and Hermione's stay in the hospital, but they were all glad to see he was okay. Hermione's absence still caused concern, but Harry assured the other teens that she was just fine. For Harry, lunch couldn't come fast enough. He spent it in the Hospital Wing with Hermione.

"Hey. I missed you this morning," Harry greeted Hermione with a quick peck on the lips. She was sitting in a chair next to a window, and she had been absentmindedly twirling her wand in her fingers. She gave him a small smile in return. "Did you start those magic exercises with Madam Pomfrey?" Instantly, Harry realized that was exactly what he shouldn't have asked about.

Hermione's face grew stormy though she tried to control her wild emotions. "She won't let me do any magic at all! She taught me some breathing and relaxation techniques today, but she won't test my magic until tomorrow!" she began to say viciously in a half mumble.

Seeing Hermione like this usually scared Harry, but today it was sort of comical. The anger in her face looked practically feline, and Harry was reminded of the year before when Hermione had taken Polyjuice potion laced with cat hair. He pulled a chair over beside hers and took her hand in his. He began to rub it gently and affectionately, and the calming effect was immediate in Hermione. Her shoulders slumped forward, and Harry could see she was sad rather than angry. "Would you like to tell me what's really bothering you?" he asked in a gentle tone.

"I'm afraid, Harry," Hermione admitted in a tiny voice. "What if my magic is gone? The parasite fed on the horcrux in your body. I had no such protection," she pointed out in an even smaller voice. "I don't want to be some common muggle again."

Harry felt his heart breaking at the sight of his girlfriend like this. Hermione's entire identity was based on her being the brightest witch of her age. He couldn't imagine how lost Hermione would be if she couldn't do magic. Harry stood up behind Hermione's chair and wrapped his arms around her body. "Nothing is 'common' about you, Hermione," Harry whispered into her ear. "You are extraordinary, and your magic will be fine. You are an extremely powerful witch, Hermione."

Hermione relaxed into Harry's arms, but Harry could tell she didn't quite buy into what he was saying. "I really want to believe you, Harry, but I am too scared about the possibilities right now."

Madam Pomfrey chose that moment to barge in and remind Harry about a class he really should be getting to. He left quietly with only a backward glance at his dejected girlfriend. Harry wandered off in the general direction of his next class, but he paid little attention to passing time or where he was going. Seeing Hermione like that upset Harry and made him angry. He was angry at Peter Pettigrew and, most of all, Voldemort.

Unconsciously, Harry found himself walking past a particular stretch of wall three times. He was thinking of a way to get back at Voldemort when a door appeared suddenly on that wall. The appearance of the door shocked Harry until he realized he had walked up to the Room of Requirement. Instantly, Harry remembered the horcrux in the form of Ravenclaw's diadem probably hidden inside. He hurried through the door to find himself surrounded by piles of old junk.

The room had a high ceiling and seemed to go on forever. Harry gazed in wonder at the mounds of just stuff grouped all around. He saw old furniture and stacks of mostly tomes. In fact, the whole place smelt of dust and old age. After wandering down aisle after narrowing aisle, Harry realized he had no idea what the diadem looked like. Luckily, Hermione had explained to Harry what a diadem was the night before, but it was still like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Harry kept wishing he knew a charm or spell that could instantly locate or summon the horcrux. Hermione would have known, but she was stuck in the Hospital Wing. He wondered around aimlessly for what seemed like an hour before feeling completely and utterly discouraged. He plopped down in a chair sitting across from a tall, old cabinet. Harry studied its battered exterior. The nicks and cracks on its façade seemed like a map of wrinkles detailing the age and experience of its life.

Perched on top of the cabinet was the bust of some mean-looking wizard with a powdered wig. Harry thought it quite comical especially when he noticed the bust was wearing a crown of some sort. He was chuckling quietly to himself when it finally struck him that a crown was sitting on top of that bust's head. From its high position on the cabinet, Harry couldn't see it clearly, so he used a levitating charm to get the bust down on the ground.

Cautiously, Harry bent down to examine the crown more closely. It looked more feminine, so it was definitely a diadem like Hermione had described. Though it was pretty dusty, Harry could make out the outline of a raven in the filigree work. His breath caught in his throat when he comprehended he had just found Ravenclaw's long-lost diadem and another horcrux. Grasping he needed to see Dumbledore immediately; Harry hastily shoved the diadem in his bag and hurried to the exit of the room.

He was halfway to the headmaster's office when he realized he really wanted to cheer Hermione up by showing her that he had found the diadem. In his glee, he half ran down the corridors and staircases back to the Hospital Wing. Harry burst through the doors to find Dumbledore sitting with Hermione, and they seemed to be in the middle of a private chat.

"Why, hello, Harry. What brings you here in the middle of class?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully. Hermione's face contained a genuine smile, so Harry guessed Dumbledore had brought her good news. That served to elevate Harry's mood even more.

"Professor, I found it!" Harry exclaimed as he extricated the diadem from his schoolbag. "It was in the Room of Requirement like we thought!"

Dumbledore graciously accepted the artifact and performed a quick spell on it that caused the diadem to glow green for a moment. "Good job, Harry. This is Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, and it is indeed a horcrux," he beamed at the ecstatic teenaged wizard. "I shall dispose of it in my office immediately." He tucked it safely into a fold of his robes and swept out the door.

Harry deposited his bag on the floor before joining Hermione on her bed. "I'm so proud of you, Harry!" she said before giving Harry a big hug that nearly crushed his ribs.

"Whoa. You seem to be in a much better mood now. What was Dumbledore talking to you about?" Harry asked gladly, happy to see Hermione in an improved state of mind.

"Dumbledore helped me with my magic. It isn't gone like I was afraid of," she explained with a matching grin. "There is one difference though. My magic isn't quite as strong as it was before. I have to concentrate to get my magic to focus, more so than I did previously."

Harry noticed a small change in Hermione countenance, but on the whole, she still seemed pretty happy with the fact that she still had magic at all. "I guess you'll get to see how us mere normal wizards feel all the time," he joked lightly as he tickled her sides.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as she dissolved into a fit of giggles. He soon relented for fear they would draw Madam Pomfrey's attention. She calmed down and put on a more sober expression for this next explanation, "Actually, I am lucky to still have any magic left at all. Dumbledore told me the parasite would have taken all the magic of any normal wizard."

"Then how did you manage to keep your magic?" Harry asked in a state of confusion.

"Dumbledore says I must be descended from one of the founders. Apparently, it's no coincidence that I am the brightest witch of my age. He believes Rowena Ravenclaw may be one of my ancestors, because only strong, ancient magic would be able to withstand such a parasite," Hermione said without trying to sound too conceited or self-important.

Harry couldn't pretend that the news didn't shock him. His girlfriend was the long-lost descendent of a Hogwarts founder. "Wow, then why are you in Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw?"

Hermione smiled again. "The sorting hat wanted to put me in Ravenclaw first, but I asked to be put in Gryffindor," she answered sheepishly.

Again, Harry's mind reeled with the information that Hermione had gotten to choose how she was sorted just like him. "Simple as that?"

"Simple as that," she reaffirmed.

Harry settled back on the pillows with Hermione tucked into the crook of his arm. "So when do you get out of here?" he wondered hopefully.

"Tonight, actually. I was about to start packing up when you came barging in like a mad man earlier," she teased.

He hopped right off the bed. "Want me to help you? You'll get out of here much faster. Perhaps we'll even be able to make it to dinner on time," he said eagerly. Anything to get Hermione back to her normal schedule and out of the Hospital Wing.

They quickly moved Hermione's things back to Gryffindor Tower, and they happily walked down to dinner hand-in-hand. Undoubtedly, the entire Gryffindor table was happy to see Hermione back and healthy. She ate and laughed and talked with great vigor. It was as if she had never left and been sick at all. Harry watched the scene with great happiness, but his mind was already drifting off to wherever Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket might be.

/

Pettigrew scurried up the brightly lit corridor. It was late at night, so there was no one to notice the dark, brown rat against the white floor. Finding the room he was searching for, he nosed the open door ajar a little farther to allow his small body entrance. All was quiet except the even breathing of the two bodies inhabiting the room. Pettigrew silently morphed back to his human state, cursing his evil master. He didn't like doing the Dark Lord's handiwork though there two would be easy enough for even him to dispose of.

A/N: Well, I'm updating way ahead of schedule. It's only been a couple months since my last chapter was posted. I know in canon that Harry placed the bust with the diadem on top of the cabinet, but here it was much easier if he just found it there. I hope you will forgive me the liberty. As a treat, I will reveal the identity of Voldemort's next two victims to the first person who reviews this chapter. By the way, I would like to dedicate this chapter to my cousin who is bravely fighting for our country over in Iraq. He's always in my heart and prayers!


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